


A Sterling Heart

by mandidandi



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged Up, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Romance, RoseGarden, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandidandi/pseuds/mandidandi
Summary: Even after all these years, Ruby Rose knew the path her sterling heart walked.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Oscar Pine/Ruby Rose
Comments: 54
Kudos: 86





	1. Of the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I’ll go ahead and start by saying the entire first act of this story is already written out, so let’s hope canon doesn’t prove me wrong too quickly. Ideally I’ll be updating weekly, but I’ve been ill and busy as of late, and sometimes I can fall behind. I’ll do my very best!
> 
> As a quick side note: this story does have notable mentions of Bumbleby and Renora (among other minor/spoiler ships,) but I've chosen not to tag them as they're not nearly the central focus. However, if you're not interest in either ship, please know they're considered canon in this story. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your interest, comments and kudos are always appreciated!

“Of course I love you,” the rose said to him.  
“It is my fault that you have not known it all the while.  
That is of no importance. But you—you have been  
just as foolish as I. Try to be happy.” 

—Antoine de Saint Exupéry, _“The Little Prince”_.

* * *

Act 1  
Chapter 1: Of the Soul

She had four thorns. 

It was second nature, a sort-of instinctive quadrate adapted solely for the sake protecting those she most loved. Ruby Rose was a _guardian._

Naturally, number one was her personal armament, Crescent Rose. From the very start, the training alongside her beloved scythe was always her go-to (and fallback) when shoved mercilessly in the face of danger. She’d learned from the best, lived by the best, and if she must—she’d die that way too. Crescent Rose, her weapon, her comrade, a friend. 

The next was her aura, and in extension, her semblance. Her ability to burst into a hurricane of rose petals at will was an uncommon trait that she’d keep honing for the rest of her life; it allowed her to see things and reach heights she’d never have otherwise been able. If only through her semblance, she’d lived up to her name, and she reveled in it just the same. 

Number three was her eyes—the gift passed down to her by the God of Light, and more personably, her mother. A gift she used to stand brave and bold in the face of darkness incarnate, to turn Grimm to stone—and so often save the lives of those in front of her. Proudly, and by birthright, Ruby Rose had proven herself a true Silver-Eyed Warrior. 

But the final and most critical part of herself, that which all could attest was the key to her continued victory—would always and forevermore be: her indomitable will. 

* * *

A hooded figure knelt at the shore of a shallow bank—an oasis in the middle of the otherwise dead and vacant desert. How she wished she’d had more time to dip her feet in the water and rest, but she was already a few days behind schedule. 

She rose to stand tall; the young woman turned to see a sandstorm brewing in the distance. A gritty breath was exhaled from dry lungs—overlapped by the sound of a bird cawing from the barely-surviving desert tree nearby. Instantly, she pivoted on her heel to look its way out of reflex. Her heightened hopes were predictably let down, as, in the back of her mind, she _knew_ they’d be. 

It was just a baby griffin vulture in a nest—crying out for its parents that weren’t around. 

A sigh of discontentment fell from her lips, but she didn’t linger. After a sip, she screwed the lid back on her filled canteen. The sifting sounds of footsteps signaled it was supposedly time for her to carry on towards the sandstorm... but abandonment grew louder in her mind as the bird cried out yet. She turned in contemplation, giving the baby vulture one last glance before looking away. She ultimately chose to face forward once again.

But, as she did, she was instantly overwhelmed by a blast of hot wind and a coarse wave of sand. 

A daunting and considerable figure landed in front of her, throwing its weighted claws into the ground. She shielded her face, looking up just in time to catch the full sight of a sharp break parting. It released a menacing cry—the force of which blew back her hood. 

A set of brilliant, _silver_ optics stared down a fully-grown griffin vulture. 

A predictably defensive parent, she could only guess. A hand placed itself on the furled weapon clipped to the back of her belt... but then she remembered the loud, helpless crying that rang in her ears yet. She’d sooner take on a loveless Nevermore any day of the week, but at the moment, she didn’t have a say in the matter. She leapt in the air, the creature jostled to follow her motion, most certainly aiming to dig its beak in her. She burst into her semblance; the foe flailed defensively as she released her speed to land on it back. This way was faster, in any case. 

It cried out again and tried to shake her off. The griffin leapt in the air and flapped it’s wings in rapid succession as it ascended. Were it sentient, it may have been offended by the giggle that resounded as she wrangled it. It took off, flying jagged and away from the little oasis and towards the sandy horizon per her guidance. _Bye-bye, water._

After a minute or so, and far enough from the nest for her comfort, she grabbed the griffin vulture by the scruff, taking a handful of plumes in her grip. She pulled it up as though she were controlling the stick shift of an air ship; it obeyed and shot higher in the air. 

When she’d reached an altitude great enough (and of course, she’d had her fun,) slender digits dug deeper into its skin with a _thorny prick_ —just enough to get her _point_ across. Jolted, it squawked in discomfort, her cue to let it go, so she did just that. It sailed off in one direction, back to its nest, and she took the other in a burst of petals—deep into the heart of the sand gusts. With chaos ebbed, the rapidly forming tornado all but dissipated completely as her steel-toed boots planted firm on the ground.

The girl wiped the sweat from her brow with a relieved exhale... as she was ultimately left alone to stare down the daunting horizons of sand that yet surrounded her. There was no changing that. Even despite her frivolous nature, Vacuo was nothing but a _wasteland._

“And here I was, about to intervene,” said a man’s voice abruptly from behind her. Caught by surprise, she flipped to look his way with her hand set firmly on her retracted weapon again. She calmed as quickly as she reacted. 

A sigh of relief before an annoyed tone. _“Fox,”_ her brow knit together. “Don’t sneak up on me!” _Especially_ after that!

He was almost reluctant to follow her into the heart of a sandstorm, but he’d since realize the reality of the good fortune when it came to the desert. “Sorry,” he shrugged, “but you’re always startled when I speak to your mind, too.” 

She rolled her eyes despite knowing he had a point. His telepathy was something she’d never get used to, and truth be told she didn’t like the idea that her thoughts were on display for anyone else to observe—but he was usually good about not being intrusive. Just like how she knew he was only scanning her thoughts to find her in the desert haze. Even with the communication towers back up, her Scroll’s signal was still faulty in the wasteland; connection was fleeting.  
  
But she was somewhat surprised he’d come out here on his own, though she supposed it was to be expected—as Coco couldn’t just up and leave Shade on a whim, and Yastuhashi and Velvet were busy with their newborn. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” she explained. “Tell Coco I’m doing alright, but I can’t come back quite yet.”

Fox shook his head. Of course Coco wanted to make sure Ruby was alive, but, “I’m here for a different reason.” Pulling a folded piece of paper out from his back pocket, he held it out to her. “You have mail—all the way from Mistral,” he explained. 

“Mistral?” Was it from Jaune? It’d be strange if it was; he wasn’t really the pen-pal type (he flooded her voicemail as per his preference.) “Who’s it from?” she asked. _Thoughtlessly._

Fox looked back with a white-eye, deadpan stare. “I can’t read.”

An embarrassed look flooded her face instantly. _“O-Oh,”_ she stuttered, “I-I—“

“Just kidding,” a playful smirk. He already knew what it was about, he was just messing with her. “Go on and see for yourself.” To which a sigh of relief resounds—she’d walked right into that one. She took it in hand; unfolding the paper, she recited it aloud.

“You’re... _cordially invited_ to the wedding ceremony of,” her steel gaze widened as she gasped, hardly able to process the words to follow, “Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie!”

Ren and Nora were _finally_ getting married! The girl let out a joyous giggle, and for what was the first and probably only time in her life, she threw her arms around Fox in an embrace. He stood there, not quite bothered, and equally unfazed. He gave her a double pat on the back. “Oh my gosh, can you believe it!” An excited gasp matched her ascended pitch. 

“Yes,” he said flatly. And not just because he could read minds; it didn’t take a telepath for know how in love Ren and Nora had always been. Ruby shifted focus to the second letter that’d been tucked inside, an RSVP slip.

“Will you give them my response?”

A grin spread across scarred lips, “Your,” _confidential,_ “assignment can actually spare you a vacation?” he teased. A hint of reluctance showed on her face as she remembered herself. Sometimes the hardest battles she’d fought were with her own truths. 

“This is just about the _only_ thing I’d take off for,” she gave a weak smile. Even _she_ wouldn’t miss this for the world. 

Fox huffed a lone chuckle and nodded. He took the paper and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Team SSSN, myself, Coco, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi were all invited as well,” and, of course, “I'm sure, the rest of _your_ team, too.” A chill ran down her spine at the mention. Undoubtedly, all their loved ones would be joining the celebration. Ruby looked back at the invite left in her hands, rereading the bolded line, “Beacon Academy”.

“I need to be getting back,” Fox said, turning the direction he’d come from. “I told Coco I’d stop at Coquina and deliver the news to Sun, too,” who’d been helping out where he could. “Remember to check in every once in a while, you know how Velvet worries.” She smiled, and as she parted her lips to give an affirmative reply, she was silenced by an external voice in her mind. 

“ _And she’s not the only one,_ ” Fox sent. 

Her heart skipped a beat, though in either fluster, guilt, or perhaps a mix of the two—she didn’t quite know. He didn’t have to say it outright for her to hear his meaning loud and clear. _“Right,”_ she sent back simply, if only because she’d seem a lot less calm if she had to say it out loud. 

Only when she was once more on her own (even in her mind,) did she look back down to the paper in hand. Ultimately, her long lashes drew closed over silver optics. 

She put a curled palm over her heart, as if keeping him safe. A breathy exhale fell from her lips, followed only by his name. 

* * *

He roused to the faint sound of someone gently calling out to him; long lashes drifted open to reveal a set of hazel optics. His vision fluttered in and out of focus as he adjusted to sit upright. Groggily, he put a hand to his cheek; he felt the shape of his glove’s negative imprinted on his face. 

He’d been dreaming of something _pleasant_ just now, but he couldn’t quite remember what. 

He gazed up past the desk he’d been sitting at—upon which he’d formerly rested his head. In front of him stood an older woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties or (very) early forties. Truthfully, he had no idea her real age, and he would never in his life even _dream_ of asking. Surely, she had been the one calling out to him. 

He gave her a guilty smile. “Sorry, Professor Goodwitch,” a chuckle in place of his addendum: _I fell asleep at my desk again._

She returned the expression with one _vaguely_ humored (or the closest she’d ever be). “Perhaps you should start drinking coffee?”

“Thanks for the suggestion, but,” he looked down at the empty mug set on his desk, “I prefer hot coco.”

An endeared, however unsurprised expression showed on her face for a moment as she lingered—almost as though she were lost in a memory. She chose not to comment on the fact, and instead let it fade away. The click of her heels echoed on the thick, glass floor. “You have a letter,” she held out an off-white envelop, and he took it in his palm. His anticipation from the potential sender was quelled as soon as it hit; the calligraphy on the front was suspiciously regal and lavish. 

He was surprised in opening the article to find an invitation. 

> You’re cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie as honorary officiant, upon humble request from the bride and groom.   
>  June 25th at 7PM in Beacon Academy Convention Hall, reception to follow.

His expression lit with a sort of joy, his company couldn’t help but smile too in amusement. Given the location and the odd look of knowing on her face, the young man had a feeling Glynda already knew. “Ren and Nora are _finally_ getting married.” 

“I’d have certainly thought it wouldn’t have taken _this_ long.” She recalled her former students—and even from the first time she’d met them at their Beacon acceptance interview, their bond and inseparability was all but tied with a string. “Brothers know Mr. Ren has _long_ since committed every part of himself to keeping up with Ms. Valkyrie.” 

Having hardly lived though more than a few of Nora’s suffocating embraces, he certainly agreed. “Think there’s any chance I can take a day’s vacation in June?”

“If you can actually keep up with your work,” Glynda took his empty mug from his desk, “then I _suppose_ I’ll allow it.” He found humor in the fact that she certainly wasn’t telling him on a professional level, but as someone dear who was looking out for him. 

“After all,” Glynda filled the cup with hot water and poured in a packet of coco powder, stirring it a bit before setting it back down in front of him, “it’d be a shame to miss out on the joy that everyone worked so hard to preserve.” With a soft _“thank you,”_ he looked back to the invitation gently; it really was a miracle that something like this were possible at all. 

Grabbing the cup’s handle in his palm, he put his lips to the rim. As he took a sip, it was almost as though Glynda has waited to hit him with her addendum: “And I’d _hate_ to rob you of the chance at catching the bouquet.”

In surprise, he sputtered on the hot liquid entering his mouth. “W-What?” an uncomfortable laugh between coughs. He wished he could say he knew she was just teasing him, but in how often she reminded him to cherish and indulge in her personal life while he was still young, he knew she was being sincere. She wasn’t one for jokes anyway.

The woman turned the other way and began walking towards the door. Speaking of: “I looked over the guest list. It seems as though everyone will be there.”

A chill ran down his spine, he’d expected as much, but Glynda caught on quick. _“Oh?”_

“Mr. Arc of course, as the man of honor. Teams CFVY and SSSN are traveling all the way from Vacuo, too, and,” with arms crossed, she turned to look back over her shoulder, “Team RWBY.”

A thoughtful pause. “Oh,” he repeated more softly this time. He looked to the framed image on his desk, deep in thought.

“Perhaps you’ll have time to discuss with _Ms. Rose_ the latest discoveries in her travels while she here,” she said, pushing the elevator’s down button. Though she didn’t voice it, the latter part of her sentiment was heard loud and clear: and matters more personal.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she finally told him. “You can continue your leisurely reading _after_ you finish your paperwork.” 

“Of course,” he gave her a gentle and reassuring gaze, following with a nod. “Have a good night, Glynda.” At the door, she returned his expression with an fond smile, one rather unlike the stern look she showed most of the world. 

“You too, Headmaster Pine.”

On his own, he looked back to the framed image set in his desk; a younger version of himself stood beside a beautiful girl in red: his unique Rose. 

* * *

“Are you sure you can manage things on your own?”

An nod, one affirmative and confident in the decision. He wasn’t like the huntress in front of him; “I’ll be a lot more help _here_ than I will be _out there._ ” He looked to her with a similar show of concern. “Will _you_ be okay on your own?”

A pensive look, a deep exhale. “I,” she replied softly, “I have a few things I need to _sort out._ ”

Oscar replied with a knowing look. “Your secret's safe with me,” he reassured her, which was more-so to say, _“I’ll cover you.”_

Humanity’s most honest soul had to forgo her own, personal journey. It’d been about a year and not a single soul had heard from him. One could only assume _the worst,_ but Ruby Rose _never_ assumed the worst—not even from the man of bad luck. 

“I’ll... be back before you know it,” she told him, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than him. He paused, and then he was more direct. 

_“I’ll miss you.”_

Silver met hazel as she finally mustered all her strength to look him in the eye. She’d sooner stare down darkness another day before saying goodbye to him. A single golden tear had gathered in his duct, but he somehow found the strength to smile. It made it _harder._

Ruby bit her lip to steady its quiver. Giving into desire, she took a few quick steps forward and threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer. He was natural to return the embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll miss you, too,” a whimper. 

She didn’t want to let him go, she wanted to stay in the moment as long as he’d let her. And if she’d ask, he’d absolutely say, _“forever”_. 

“Oscar?” 

She pulled away, just enough so to look him in the eye, but she’d kept her hands on his shoulders, yet to let go. He tilted his slightly, letting out a curious, “What is it?”

She couldn’t quite pinpoint when she’d started feeling like _“this”_. Was it when Salem abducted him, or perhaps it was that night in the dojo? Maybe it was all those times he looked fear in the eye and stood brave despite his reservations? 

She wanted to _tell_ him, to beg him to come along, or forget about everything else and stay—but life had never been that simple, nor had her heart. Sincerely, _truly_ —she had begun to understand why her uncle was always so distant.

For better or worse, her heart would go unvoiced another day, and another, and another. Just for now, and as always—she settled. Looking to Oscar at eye-level, her cheeks matched his darling shade. 

_“You’ve gotten taller.”_


	2. The Last Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ruby's eventual in her return to Beacon, she's welcomed by more than one unexpected surprise.

Chapter 2: The Last Rose

“Oh, Ruby, it is _so good_ to see you!” In both spite of and considering the statement, steel muscles flexed around her form, all but _crushing_ her ribs. 

There was never a dull reunion when it came to her most metal friend. From the moment she’d caught so much as an eagle-eyed glimpse of her arrival, she ecstatically sent herself hurling in the other girl’s direction. She not so much as taken ten steps off the transport. Ruby forced out a squeaking, broken reply. “I-It’s _good_ —to see... you, too— _Penny_ —!” 

Realizing her unknowingly dangerous hold, a simple “oh” escaped her synthetic lips. Having lifted the other girl off her feet, she released her grip, and Ruby fell to the floor, dazed. “It has been so long!” she smiled bright, sure to help the other girl back to her feet despite her lack of composure. “I cannot _wait_ to hear all about your adventures.” 

Ruby put a hand to her tender torso. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to tell—but to ruin Penny’s excitement was a bit like kicking a puppy. “Yeah,” she gave a weak smile. She was perhaps too well-adapted in switching the attention from herself. “I’m sure we _all_ have a lot to catch up on.” 

“Most certainly!” A gasp, the notion triggering a tangent, “Guess what? General Schnee gave me a vacation last month!” Exuberance all but radiated from her being. “I went to an amusement park for the first time!” It has been so much fun!

A more genuine smile shows on Ruby’s visage. “That’s wonderful, Penny.” The mention of her superior however sent an appropriate chill down her spine. Knowing they must’ve travelled together, she asked casually, “Where _is_ Weiss?” 

“She went to meet up with Blake and your sister, they'll be arriving soon, too,” Penny explained. 

A familiar feeling resonated _deep_ in her heart, the slow-rising guilt that came from the very mention _her sister._ Naturally, anxiety was quick to follow. She really couldn’t _wait_ to explain herself to all these people who were, rightfully, going to tear her apart. Acting as if Penny hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary, she went on, “What about team JNR?”. 

“Ren and Nora had an appointment to go to,” though they hadn’t said what kind of meeting it was, “and Headmaster Arc went to meet up with Headmaster Pine.” 

A beat. 

“Oh...” exactly the person she wanted to (but probably wouldn’t) ask about next.

“Yes!” Penny smiled obliviously. “Did you know? Headmaster Pine seemed _very_ eager for your return,” she hinted. “He has a surprise that he’s very excited to show you.”

Ruby stood, putting a palm to her chest in a pensive moment and emotional reluctance. “A... _surprise?_ ”

A nod. Her next suggestion was meant well, “Shall we go see them while we wait for the others?” she asked eagerly, but a moment of hesitation is all that follows—to which the android finally took notice now.

"I..." she exhaled quietly.

Penny studies her expression as she tilts her head to the side. “Ruby, are... you okay?” 

After a moment, she looked back to the other with a forced smile. “Yeah,” she answered finally. “Let’s go.” She picked her poison; she wasn’t sure she’d rather be here when her team showed up anyway. 

They’d begun on their way, but, all things considered, and unfortunately for her, Penny was quick to catch on after a few minutes of one sided conversation. She wasn't yet _unconvinced._ “Are you _sure_ you're... feeling alright?" she asked after a few minute of silence. An overly curious inflection for a simple question. "Your heartbeat and body temperature are both slightly above average.” 

Ruby walked the artificial girl’s side as she led the way. Contrary to what she’d go on to say, the Rose gave a small grumble. “I’m... I’m fine, Penny, I’m just,” an inhale, “a _little_ stressed out.” And the last thing she needed was someone reminding her how _stressed out_ she was. 

Penny hummed, as of course she’d known, and even experienced such an emotion herself, the miracle of anxiety—but to say she “understood” the situation might not be proper. “Are you... not _getting along_ with Headmaster Pine?” the android asked innocently. 

She wasn’t upset at her curiosity however. She knew Penny had never really been great at “reading the room”. “No,” a pause, “that’s... not it at all.” 

A quizzical look. “Then why are you ‘ _stressed out_ ’?” A deeper sigh falls from her partner's lips, as Ruby knew she wasn't trying to get on her nerves. She was just... _confused._

She contemplated a proper explanation. “It’s... complicated,” she settled, though that didn’t really seem like a fair or adequate answer. Penny’s stride drifted to a stop. An almost helpless look showed on her expression. _Had she overstepped?_

A sullen tone. “Something... I can’t understand?” 

Ruby slowed at her side, too, her silver gaze set on upon her steel-toed boots. She looked back to the girl who hadn’t aged a day despite cosmetic upgrades; Ruby reached over and took Penny’s hands in her own. 

“It's not like that, either," she reassured her. Despite her metallic nature, she was warm. “Remember all those years ago, when you told me you wished you could do both the things you _needed_ and the things you _wanted_?” Ruby asked; Penny nodded (replaying the record in her mind.) A smile, one almost sad. “Then you _do_ understand how I feel.”

An enlightened _“ohhh”_ , was followed by an exuberant, “I see!” But her expression warped after a moment, as she grew confused yet. “What does that have to do with Headmaster Pine?” Still holding Penny’s hands, Ruby’s grip tightened a bit more. Her cheeks lit with the color of ardency, and she looked away. 

“I've _wanted_ to see Oscar for a long time now," she started, "but...” her voice trails off. 

“But, you _can’t?_ ” Penny asked.

A weight drew heavy in the center of Ruby’s chest, "I _can_ ," she explained, "but it's hard."

"Why?" She canted her head to the side. "Don’t you _want_ to be with him?"

Ruby shook her head. That was just it. “I _do_ want to. More than any _one_ , or any _thing_ ,” she confessed, “but I’m not sure that’s a life I should,” or even _could,_ “have at this point.” 

_Oh,_ an epiphany, _that’s what it is._

Her artificial aura, heart, and soul resonated with a knowing, gentle sympathy. Her racing pulse, her risen temperature, the rosy color of her cheeks—and to top it all off, her heartbroken desires... Ruby really should have given Penny credit more often; despite everything, she may have been the most human of all. 

“You’re _in love_ with Headmaster Pine, aren’t you?”

With a heart and head on instant high alert, fluster overtook the older girl. It wasn't like she was ashamed of it—it was just... embarrassing when she said it out loud, and so matter-of-fact! _“P-Penny—!”_ she sputtered... (but, she didn’t deny it. Penny probably had a built-in lie detecter anyway.)

"Ruby," the artificial girl’s expression softened. "Love’s the most _powerful_ thing in the world, isn’t it?” stated the redhead simply, as though there were no weight in the sentiment and only light.

If Pietro had proven one thing, it was the incomparable power of love. Her father had given up both his life and the last of his aura to remake her one final time, she hoped that one day her potential as a human would be lived to the fullest. She’d never yet experienced romantic feelings herself, but she really wished she had. Penny couldn’t wait for the day she’d fall in love, too. And if Ruby already was...

“You _should_ be with Headmaster Pine. You’ll be even _stronger_ if you’re together.”

Ruby’s racing heart thudded at its core; she didn’t know how to explain that it really wasn’t, and could never be, that simple. "Penny, it's... _it's not_ —" The android cut her off, shaking her head. 

The duo came to their stop, standing in front of an elaborate floral arch that led to a beautiful garden. “Maybe I _don’t_ understand this after all, Ruby,” Penny finally said. The very real girl let go her friend’s hands and took a step behind her. With an unnatural gentleness (actively taking measure to control her own strength this time,) she gave the huntress a light push, ushering her towards the arch. “Because I think doing the things you _want_ will help you do the things you _need._ ” 

While there was a hint of defiance in the sentiment, it came out encouraging as she’d meant. Ruby gazed back to Penny’s default, eternal smile—to her optimism, her encouragement. Even if she couldn’t empathize, she knew the android would certainly hold her heart in the right place, above humanity, but always as a part of it. A weak expression turned brighter, if only a bit.

The real girl left her with a sound and final sentiment; call it an _opinion or ideal_ , but to her, it was a simple fact: “I think _it’s wonderful_ to be in love, Ruby.”

* * *

This was the first time she’d ever visited the reconstructed gardens. Evidently it was only recently replanted; it was beautiful then before, and reminded her of one she’d visited back in Mistral... though the latter was more like a maze from hell. 

Incidentally, all the walled hedges were adorned only with red roses; their romantic aroma wafted through the air. A short walk down the paths brought Ruby to a clearing with a pavilion—presumably, the center of the arboretum...

And, promptly, she was taken aback by a sight she’d have never _suspected._ A beautiful, iron statue, familiar in shape—brandishing a scythe before a static cape flowing in the wind. One may have mistaken it for the onlooker, but Ruby could tell it wasn’t made in her image. 

It was the shape of her mother’s likeness.

She took a few steps forward, reading the mounted memo:

> **Dedicated to Summer Rose,**   
>  **Who had long fought valiantly**   
>  **For the sake of all.**   
>  **Humanity’s caretaker,**   
>  **19XX to 20XX**   
>  **Thus kindly she scatters,**   
>  **The last Rose of Summer.**

_“Ruby.”_

Chills ran down to the base of her neck as she froze. Ruby worked up all her strength to pivot slow on her heel. Sure enough, there he stood—the person she’d wanted for so long to see. 

_“Oscar...”_

Ruby choked on her words but none could surface. The two stared at each other for what felt like a long moment, perhaps it was because neither knew what to say, or they simply didn’t know where to start. 

With reckless abandon, cape fluttering in the wind, she burst into petals in his direction; his eyes went wide in surprise. Flinging her arms around the boy, she knocked him over. He yelped as they toppled to the ground, she clung to Oscar as she rested atop him. A little laugh follows the wind getting knocked out of him. He was surprised also, but not unpleasantly either. 

All along she’d been fretting about seeing him again, but it was like a light flipped on in her core, the rusted cogs in her heart began to turn again. It was like none of those concerns matters anymore. With rosy cheeks pressed against his chest, after a moment, her hold around him flexed tighter, almost timidly. 

The sentiment lifted his heart higher. He would never have been able to directly ask the one whom it was dedicated to, but he knew her daughter’s word just as true. The young man placed his hands gently around her form, returning her embrace.

Her anxiety dissipated liked petals in the wind as as laid in his arms. A gentle palm rose to stroke the back of her head. He spoke so gently, and only to her. “I’m so happy to see you,” _to see you return._

Was she really here, and was it really okay to be? She didn’t care right now. If the moment could last the rest of her life, it still wouldn’t be long enough. And if she’d ask to stay, he’d still and always say, “forever”. She parted her lips, finally ready to speak, ready to tell him every little thing she’d wanted to say in the entire time she was gone. 

“I—“

“I’m sorry, are we _interrupting_ something?”

Like a record screeching to a halt, a familiar cheeky inflection all but suffocated the air. Both Oscar and Ruby’s gazes flipped up from their _(perhaps falsely incriminating)_ moment. There stood the W, B, and Y of her team’s name. 

_“W-Weiss!”_ exclaimed Ruby, practically throwing herself off the boy she’d tackled to the brick pavement. “Blake!” She huffed out her teammates' names, but the third and usual didn’t surface so easily. It was almost as if she had to work up the courage to say it. _“Yang.”_

Fear and anxiety stirred in her heart as the violet gaze staring back, shielded by a pair of sunshades, and notably accompanied by a stern frown. God, she wasn’t ready for this, _she wasn’t—_

But suddenly, the look on her sister’s face shifted. She lowered her sunglasses; she didn’t look angry, but instead, she was... _smirking mischievously._ “So _this_ is why you haven’t been answering my calls.” She motioned to Oscar with a wink, Blake giggled at the comment. 

It took Ruby a second to catch on to her meaning. Instantly, her ardent shade was replaced with a similar color of hot embarrassment. Sure, she’d take teasing over... the alternative, but they had the wrong idea! “Wait! _It’s not what—!”_

“I literally _cannot_ believe this,” Weiss moaned, intentionally tone-deaf to whatever drama was going on around her. “It's been over a year since we saw each other last, and practically have to hunt you down with my rapier before you’ll answer my calls—then I find you _laying on top of a boy_ before you even at _hi_ to me!?” Ruby winced as though she’d been slapped on the wrist. Ugh, wait. Never mind, she didn’t like this either. _Good to see you too, Weiss._

“C’mon,” a voice jutted in, “it’s not a _boy_ ,” Yang chuckled, reaching down with her robotic arm to yank the young man to his feet, “it’s _Oscar!”_

“Gee, thanks,” said Oscar flatly, dusting himself off though hardly recovered from his daze. Ever the gentlemen, he helped Ruby to her feet regardless, and the gesture didn’t escape an older sibling’s trained eye. 

“I meant you’re a _stud_ now.” Yang winked at her sibling and slung her arm around her neck. She gave a nod and teasing “sup?”. Ruby hissed beneath her breath—totally ready to lay her only sister flat on the ground despite everything. 

“Take it as _a compliment_ ,” Blake reassured with a smile, putting a palm on Oscar’s shoulder. He huffed a laugh and put a bashful hand to the back of his head. 

“Whatever, fine,” an annoyed Weiss flicked her wrist, “I’ll be the _fifth_ wheel.” Ruby found herself sweating for more reasons than one. 

An apologetic tone and a pathetic gaze was her only reply. “Guys _, I’m—!”_

“—Eh,” Weiss cut her off. She waved her hand as if to silence her excuses, and of course, it worked. Lucky for Ruby, and despite the situation, Weiss had learned it was best to smile, even at times when she just wanted to fuss. “You can tell us all about it tonight, because from this point on, I’m not letting you _out of my sight.”_ Ruby swallowed hard, sweating frantically at the _very scary_ thought.

Weiss moved to motion towards her, and Ruby flinched comedically. To her confusion, however, the former heiress only offered Ruby her free palm with a notably _gentle_ look. The intended reciprocate blinked absently. What was even more-so to Ruby’s disbelief, Yang did the same. 

Ruby gazed back like a doe in headlights. Was she being... _welcomed_ back?

Blake, already holding onto Yang’s arm, knowingly reached over and took Weiss’s with her other hand. They were only missing one piece of the puzzle now. After a moment, a gentle hand ushered the near-dumbfounded girl forward with a pat on the back, she stumbled a bit. Despite not quite receiving the same courtesy, Oscar knew their team was entitled to some _much-needed_ time together. " _I'll catch up,_ " he whispered in her ear. A light blush heated her visage once more, she looked over her shoulder with a weak smile. The young huntress gazed again to the three girls before her, who, despite everything, she'd missed for so long. After accepting Weiss’s offered hand, she mustered up the strength to look her sister in the eye.

Yang’s brow warped upwards in the very slightest, an expression that went past the other two teammates’ notice. A gentle look, a welcoming look, the look of a sister who was _happy to see her._ Ruby almost felt like she could cry.

Finally, she took Yang's Atlasian hand, and despite its metallic nature, it felt so warm. 


	3. Taste of Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby pays Oscar a late-night visit.

Chapter 3: Taste of Sand

It was both a refreshing and _exhausting_ change of pace to see so many old and fond faces—but Ruby Rose has certainly earned some _well-deserved_ comic book time later that evening. She had a _lot_ of catching up to do after all, as serialized media was more than a little uncommon in Vacuo. Unfortunately for her, however... Weiss had been big on recreational reading. 

“So, are you gonna catch me up on the last twelve months, or do I have to hang you from the ceiling by _gravity dust_ to get it out of you?”

At least she’d brought her cookies as a peace offering—but even Ruby’s sweet tooth wasn’t free from the anxiety of having to explain herself. She mindlessly nibbled on a chocolate chip and shrugged, as if to say _‘nothing’_. “Don’t give me that,” Weiss scolded her.

“There’s not—“

“Excuse me," she cut her off incredulously, "did I not just say ‘ _don’t give me that_ ’?” 

The younger gazed down guiltily to the barely eaten treat in her hands. It wasn’t that she was ashamed because she wasn’t being honest—it was because she _was_. “I wish I had more to tell, but,” she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, “I haven’t made any progress, Weiss."

The former-heiress looked to her teammate with a sympathetic gaze. “Okay,” that was all _well and fine,_ “but I meant—how are you _feeling?_ ” A concerned arm reaches out, Weiss takes her company’s hand in her own. “Last time we saw each other, you...” she contemplated her choice phrasing, “ _could’ve been better._ ”

* * *

_"General Schnee,"_ a familiar voice said over her desktop intercom. It felt unnecessary to be addressed so formally by the other line, but she knew the expectation to keep things official. 

Regardless, she liked breaking the rules, even now. "Yes, Winter?"

"You..." a pause, _"have a visitor."_

Uh-oh. That was her "it's not a good visitor" voice. Weiss rolled her eyes, and her sister could nearly hear it in her tone. "Is it Whitley again?" Weiss rested her elbow on the desk, nestling her chin in her palm. "I _told_ him," while their relationship was no longer quite so tumultuous, "if he needs to talk about the company, he can just call." That way, she could screen him when she didn't want to listen to him go on. Incessantly. "He—"

"It's not Whitley," corrected Winter quickly. Simply, _"It's your team leader."_

Instantly, Weiss's mood shifted. "Ruby?" she replied in surprise, holding back her excitement. Last she heard, she was still in Anima! "Send her up.”

_"Right,"_ a curiously curt reply.

After a minute, the sound of her office's elevator door echoed. It opened to reveal Winter, holding the supposed visitor unconscious in her arms. The former operative looked naturally displeased. 

"Oh, Brothers," Weiss muttered beneath her breath. She rose from her seat, taking a few fast steps in her direction. 

"Mayor Hill found her collapsed in Mantle, her passport suggests she’s just made her way in from Menagrie,” explained an agitated Winter. "She's stable now, but her aura was fully depleted." Taking her to the nearby visitor's sofa, she laid the girl down. "What completely... _irresponsible_ behavior for the Savior of Remnant."

A long, thoughtful pause comes in reply. She looks to the girl, then back to her sister. “Thank you, Winter,” Weiss replied, “I'll look after her till she wakes.”

* * *

Ultimately, in the present day, she'd been better, but she'd been _worse._ Even back then, she’d still _been worse._

“I'm fine, Weiss," she settled to say, and truly she was, but largely, the last thing she wanted was anyone else fretting over her. I haven’t lost sight of what I have to do, so I'm still fine. "I promise."

It was at least somewhat relieving to hear; when she didn’t say more, Weiss didn’t press her... but she did choose to tease her instead. “You certainly seemed happy to see _Oscar_ today.”

Reminded of the compromising moment they’d so very unfortunately found her in, the hair on the back of Ruby’s neck stood on end. “Oh,” she tried to play it cool—shoving the entire cookie in her mouth, “well, y’know,” an uncomfortable laugh. When she didn’t elaborate, Weiss was, of course, _displeased._

“You, like, gonna _tell_ me about that at all?” 

Commence Ruby nervously eating three more cookies whole. “What do you mean? There’s,” again _, for better or worse,_ “nothing to tell.” Weiss shot a judging look in her direction; Ruby went on the defensive. “I’m serious!” she exclaimed, but Weiss’s demeanor didn’t budge. It wasn’t like she was ditching her for Oscar or something! Though she sounded awfully guilty for someone telling the truth. “I haven’t so much as given him a proper status report, for Brothers' sake. Calm down,” she muttered. But Weiss saw through her like a frozen, glassy lake in winter. 

“Well,” as a military general who took operatives very seriously, “that’ll _never_ do.” 

Her silver optics went wide and she flinched. Next thing she knew, Weiss had yanked her from the bed and was dragging her towards the door. Abort, abort! “H-Hey!”

“Oh, come on,” Weiss rolled her eyes as she pulled Ruby along. “If there’s nothing to tell, then what’s the big deal?” 

“Okay, okay!” Geez, she was just gonna make her say it, wasn’t she? “I-I was, just— _surprised_ that he made my mother a monument, that’s all!” 

“Uh-huh,” cue suspicion. “For your mother, or for _you?_ ” Weiss looked back to Ruby with a risen eyebrow, who gaped back. “Think he did that just between _friends?”_

She sputtered, incredulous. “Wha— _yes!”_ They we’re _friends_ —was she implying they weren’t friends?!

_“Oh my god,”_ she groans beneath her breath. Having dragged her teammate down the hall and to the elevator, she pushed the button to the top floor. Keeping a firm hold on Ruby’s wrist she reached in her pocket and pulled out a little round container. 

“What’s that?” _Dare she ask._

“Breath mints,” she said flatly, pouring a few out and shoving them against Ruby’s lips. She relented, opening her mouth and nearly gagging from fluster and the icy taste. The loud “ding” resounded as movement was heard along the wall; the door opened. Weiss gave her a “gentle” shove. 

“D-Don’t make me do this!” Ruby whined helplessly between coughs. 

“I’m not,” Weiss winked back to her. “After you _‘check in’_ , you can always come right back down,” she told her in the fleeting moment as the elevator door remained open, “ _or_ you can make good use of those mints and stay.” Her fate sealed with the elevator door sliding shut. 

Naturally, she swallowed the mints _whole._

The ride up couldn’t have been more than forty-five seconds, but the anxiety felt like forty-five years. Explaining to anyone her fruitless escapades was a task all on its own, but meeting with Oscar one-on-one felt like a _nightmare_ turned reality. A ding to signals her stop. To her surprise and horror, the door slid open and she was greeted with the back of a familiar, yet clearly aged figure.

“...Miss Rose?” 

In the hall leading to his office, her old teacher stood; she was curious to look over her shoulder. 

“Professor Goodwich!” Despite her surprise, she feigned normalcy. Poorly. Ruby swallowed hard, looking somehow guilty. “W-What are you doing here?” she asked, to which the woman turned in full. 

She was just as stunning as she’d always been, but age showed faint on her face. What was most interesting is the fact that she was actually wearing her hair down for what may have been the first time in Ruby’s recollection. She held a mug in her hand. “Checking in with Headmaster Pine before bed,” she explained simply. The better question was, “What are you doing here?” 

A transparent, nervous laugh incriminated Ruby further. “I was, just... going to give the headmaster my status report!” 

Glynda looked the young woman up and down, raising a single brow after a moment. “At,” she peeked down at her wristwatch, “ten-thirty at night?” The younger, silver gaze was stuck wide. “In your _pajamas?”_ Ruby, too, glanced down at the summery, red-and-black night set she adorned. _A pause._

“Yes.”

The look of suspicion didn’t dissipate from Goodwich’s gaze, but she relented, if only in her interrogation. “ _Right,”_ she commented with a light shake of her head. She was getting _too old_ for this. “Well, then,” the sound of her heels clicked against the linoleum, “don’t let _me_ interrupt.” She handed Ruby the mug she’d been holding, its warmth doing _no favors_ for her temperature. 

She wanted to drop everything instantly and blurt a proper explanation, but Glynda’s behavior was just as intimidating as it’d always been. She walked past Ruby, the elevator chimed and she took a step in. “Have a _wonderful_ night, Miss Rose,” said an all-too menacing tone for one ushering a supposedly kind sentiment. 

The door closed behind her words, and again, Ruby was left on her own. The scent of coco mixed with the icy sensation of mint, making her feel somewhat sick. The universe was truly most relentless _off_ the battlefield. Ruby tuned to walk the hall as though she were treading towards her own, personal execution. Looking towards daunting entrance in front of her all the while, it adorned a familiar gear symbol, the same on the cup she held. She gave an exhale, peeking down at the mug she held before pushing the door ajar with reckless abandon. Its creaking signaled a hasty shuffling on his part.

“I’m almost done with my paperwork Glynda, honest,” he said, somewhat frantic and preemptively. “I just—“ looking up, he was quickly taken aback by the sight of a girl he didn’t at all expect. He blinked, perhaps more than a bit stunned—and not just because she looked so stunning, even in the dim light (or perhaps especially.) 

“Ruby?”

A nervous giggle resounds for her own situation, though it was kind of funny. She could empathize, she’d certainly had that same manner of reaction in a couple of Professor Goodwich’s lectures. “Just me,” she shrugged. 

“I—,” he didn’t know what to make of the situation, but he wasn’t anywhere near about to turn her away.

She shuffled nervously. “If you’re busy, I can—“

“Not at all, _”_ he cut her off with perhaps too much _fervor_ , but he didn't really care. “Come in,” the young headmaster put on a smile and stood from his desk, gesturing to welcome her. She took a few timid steps in his direction, and he did the same to her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Ah, well,” be it in pride of shyness, she casually chose to pin it on anyone else but herself, “Weiss fussed at me for not... ' _properly'_ checking in with you,” which, make no mistake, was totally true. He exhaled a laugh, as he definitely understood. 

“Always business with her.” 

After a moment, however, he looked down curiously at the mug in her hands. Dully remembering as much too, she quickly held it out to him. “I saw Professor Goodwich on the way up,” she said, “Guess you’re not in as much trouble as you thought.” He chuckled a reply, and it’s enough to make her giggle too. “ _Always_ business with her,” she parroted as Oscar took the cup in hand. 

Realizing his manners, he offered her a spot, “Do you want to sit down?” He motioned to the nearby love seat. She answered silently with a few steps, nestling into the floral pattern cushion. He sat beside her. 

There was an emerald glass tea set on the coffee table in front of them—though it looked more for decoration than practicality. A bundle of ferns sat centerfold in a vase—next to which was a thin book. On the cover was an illustration of a _little boy and a flower,_ it must've been a _children's fairytale._

“You know,” she looked back to him as he blew the steam from his drink, “the only person I’ve ever seen Professor Goodwich’s make coffee for was Ozpin,” she noted. “You must not be getting along _too_ poorly, _right?”_

He gave a shy laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “Kind of the opposite, I’d say,” he replied, “and it’s hot coco, actually.” (Something about the fact made her heart twinge, and not just because it was so cute.) “Honestly, it feels like she dotes on me t _oo_ much.” He needn’t think long or hard to guess why. _He took a sip._

“That’s not a _bad_ thing,” Ruby smiled. “It’s good to have someone looking after you.” As both of them were long-time members of the “ _absent parents_ ” club, she was sure it meant a lot to him. He’d always missed his aunt so much, after all. 

“Well, it’s certainly taken some getting used to,” he took another drink, “but I’m... really glad she’s here with me.” A twinge of guilt struck, but Ruby didn’t comment on the fact. He didn’t have to say it, but she could only assume how lonely it must’ve been at times. Equally, she could empathize; she returned the sweet sentiment with a smile. 

But, enough about him, he decides. “Is Vacuo any more relenting from what I remember?” he asked, to which Ruby huffed a laugh. 

_“Hardly,”_ she rolled her eyes. “I swear it gets more unbearably hot every day,” which incidentally, wasn’t even her least favor part. It was, of course, “Still _‘kill or be killed’._ ” A heavy sentiment that came out more as an inconvenience, a rule she regularly ignored. 

“Well, it looks like you made it back in decent condition,” a little smirk. Though he’d be more surprised if she _hadn’t._

“Well,” Ruby mimicked the playful look, “I may be in one piece, but I’m pretty sure the taste of sand is permanently _stuck_ in my mouth.” Even despite the overwhelming sensation of mint that haunted her still. Did that really count as "decent condition"? Oscar, too, laughed a bit—but then he grew quiet...

“After the wedding, are you going back?”

To which his guest paused, remembering her spot in the lane of uncertainty. Realizing he’d made her uncomfortable, Oscar was quick to correct himself. _“Sorry,”_ he blurted. She’d only just arrived, it was probably overwhelming enough for her as is. “We don’t have to talk—“

“No, no,” she sighed, giving a shake of the head. “It’s fine,” she reassured him. The young woman fidgeted a bit, but she didn’t look him in the eye. She knew she had to get on with the truth sooner or later. “After the last six months, I think it’s safe to conclude that the Rivers of Grimm have near completely dried up in Vacuo,” she explained, the greatest and perhaps only revelation in her otherwise brief report, "even Coco agrees with me.”

A notion to which Oscar blinked, a bit surprised. This was the first he’d heard of it. “That’s _good_ news, isn’t it?” That meant they could focus their forces and search elsewhere... yet, she seemed so disappointed. He tried smiling at her, hoping she’d look his way—but she didn’t. 

“Of course,” the expression on her face clearly contemplated the fact, “but, I... don’t know if _my_ search is done there.” 

He needn't more than a moment to take her meaning. A pause is followed by a gentle, sympathetic tone. “Ruby...” 

The compassion in his tone was like a needle prodding her heart. Her name delicate on his lips made her heart both rise and sink. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted suddenly, as if holding back the notion were impossible any longer. “I’m sorry, I just—“ here came her favorite part, justifying what may have seemed like her own selfish intent, or perhaps truly was, “There’s so much of the desert I haven’t reached. What if he’s stuck, what if he’s being held somewhere?” Both very real possibilities in Vacuo, she’d learned first hand. “I have to keep looking, or it’s all been for nothi—!”

A bit taken aback, the young headmaster couldn’t so much as stutter a reply as she rambled on. “Ruby—“ 

“I’m sorry, Oscar, I promise,” she laced together her fingertips at chest-level, “ _promise_ I’m still focused on our mission—but,” she bit her lip, “I—I, _just—_ “

“Ruby,” he cut her off. “I know.”

Her breath hitched, she was almost stunned silent. A second passed before she finally shifted to look at him. “If that’s what you want to do, then that’s what I want, too,” he told her, to which her brow knit together. She didn’t know what she was expecting—but it wasn’t that. 

Did she think he would be disappointed, scold her, turn her away? A guilty hand rose to rest over a guiltier heart. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say still, her voice a shaking whisper. 

“Don’t apologize,” Oscar reached out, placing a hand over her free palm. His touch, hotter than fire, flared all the way to her cheeks. “You have the right _and choice_ to do what you want,” what she felt was she needed to do, “and I’ll always fully support whatever that is.”

Yet at a loss for the right words, she exhaled his name, “Oscar...” 

It was a reminder she needed, in spite of having never doubted as much. If there was _anyone_ who’d understand, it’d certainly be the boy who questioned ownership of his own life. Was he really making this so easy for her, and was he really _okay_ with that? Maybe not, as a predictable afterthought followed. 

“Will you promise me something, though?” the young headmaster asked. 

A beat.   
_Don’t be so anxious to give your word, Ruby._

“Anything.” 

He put his mug on the coffee table. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought his characteristic flush was a bit deeper than normal—but maybe it was just the lighting. Or maybe it was the summer air. _Was it warm in here?_

“Will you try to call more often?” he asked, “Or write?” 

A wave of guilt stronger than any yet poured over her head like a bucket of ice water. Actually, you know what? _This_ may have been the part she wanted most to avoid. 

“I know you can handle yourself, but I can’t help but worry,” not about her skill, but, “being on your own can really... _trap_ you in your own head.” Again, he would know _all_ about being alone with oneself. The huntress looked at her lap, disbanding contemplation. He’d given her no need for excuses. It wasn't like he has asking for the world, right? Couldn’t she just do this _one_ thing for him?

Flipping her wrist, she readjusted to lace her pinky around his. “I...” she offered her word. “I will.” 

The young man’s visage lit with gratification, he gave her hold a little squeeze. He could _always_ count on her. “Thank you,” he said, and the Rose put forth a smile to match... despite being unsure if she'd just _lied_ to his face.

Realizing she was still holding onto him, a fluster hit her—she quickly let go with a clearing of her throat. Feigning normalcy, she played it off by nudging him lightly in the side. “But _you_ have to promise you won’t keep asking Coco,” (or anyone else!) “to keep an eye on me!” 

_Uh-oh, caught red-handed._ Oscar rubbed his prodded rib with a liable giggle. _No excuses, no excuses._ He gave in, “I can agree to these terms." 

Ruby chuckled too, tucking a maroon-tipped stand behind her ear. When she did, the boy at her side looked over with somewhat pleasant surprise—as if he’d noticed something _lovely_. 

An onyx cubic zirconia sparkled in the evening light. “You... _pierced your ears_ ,” he said suddenly. 

Ruby blinked, caught a bit off guard that he’d noticed or payed attention to that kind of thing. “Oh,” she replied. Well, speak of the devil, “Coco did it for me,” explained Ruby, “she said it’d look...” well, in her very “Coco” way of explaining things, _sexy and alluring,_ “... _good_ on me.” 

“It does,” he didn’t miss a beat, “it’s befitting.” 

When he didn’t look away, she, almost ironically, grew _frozen_ under his gaze and comment. As her hair began to droop back to frame her face, Oscar reached out; Ruby had to resist all urge to flinch away. He _tucked_ the strand behind her ear again, his hand lingering by her face for a longer moment; his fingertips brushed _gently_ against her skin.

Alright, _it was definitely warm in here._

__

“Ruby, I,” a pause, “I’ve thought about you,” he confessed, _“every day.”_

Her heart skipped a beat, but she’d have thought it’d stopped completely with how overwhelming the sentiment was. 

Resistance to desire was futile, she let herself look him in the eye, really observe the person he’d become. Visibly, he’d gotten older and grown—and while he wasn’t a little boy anymore, the manner of his gaze was as innocent as it’d always been. He still couldn’t seem to properly brush his hair in place—what a look for an academy headmaster, and _not for the first time._

He was still as darling as the first day they’d met.

“I've... thought about you, too,” she said back. Sure enough, _“Every day.”_

_And I’ve missed you every minute._

_I wrote you letters I never sent, dialed your number but never pressed call. I’ve stood out front of this school till midnight—but never came in. I’m sorry, I didn't want to go in the first place, and never want to leave again. If I have to, I want you along for everything. I always have, I always will._

_Can’t I stay, can’t I stay, can’t I please stay?  
And I don’t just mean at the academy. _

"I..." She dared reach up and take his lingering hand in her own. He makes honesty look so easy, just be honest too. Oscar gazed back, holding his breath, curious in anticipation. Ruby squeezed her grip a little tighter. _“I—“_

_I can’t._

Abruptly, Ruby rose to her feet. She let go his hand and put a safe distance between herself and him despite the pleading desire in her chest that _begged_ otherwise to stay. 

“I-I... should be going,” she replied, excuse so lame she might as well have said nothing at all. “Can’t stay up too late!” A forced grin. Finger guns. A girl _so desperate_ to get out of there, she didn't care _how_ awkward or obvious she was. 

Oscar was left stunned, on his own and equally reminded of himself. “Uhm," he muttered, following with a slight shake of the head as if to snap himself out of it, "yeah, right." 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she half-heartedly pardoned herself. As her floral step fleeted towards the door, it was like a light flickered on in the back of Oscar's mind in the last moment possible. An idea, and a question.

“Wait—one more thing!" he called out, and the young woman stopped in place just before the door.

Reluctant, Ruby didn’t look back. “What is it?" she asked, and he followed to pause. 

“Are you wearing red to the wedding?” 

Huh? That—that wasn't at all the inquiry she'd been expecting. “Oh, uhm,” the huntress looked over her shoulder, answering what she thought was a relatively obvious question, “probably.” She shrugged; she was going with her team to pick out a dress tomorrow, but she could only assume. It was Remnant custom to wear one's aura color to formal events such as this, though Ren and Nora weren’t exactly ones for _tradition._ “Why?” 

He replied with a gentle look, one that seemed pleased with the fact. "Just curious.” 

With that, Oscar extended a gentlemanly arm, offering a hand to bid her the evening’s farewell. He gazed towards her with his most precious smile—the one all but reserved for only _his unique Rose._

“Have a good night, Ruby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story, I hope I've made the hiatus a little more interesting! Thank you for reading, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	4. The Only Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby loved Yang more than anything, but she and her sister would simply never see eye-to-eye on some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say I love Yang Xiao-Long, as after Ruby and Oscar she's likely my favorite character, but make no mistake. I also know how she is.
> 
> Thanks for reading and being patient, kudos and comments are always appreciated!

Chapter 4: The Only Blood

“Oh, stop fidgeting.” 

A mocking tone, _“Stop fidgeting.”_

The military general dragged the corset ribbons tighter as though she were trying a _noose_. An exasperated gasp was squeezed from compressed lungs—she’d asked for that one. “You wouldn’t have lasted a _minute_ in my house as a kid,” Weiss rolled her eyes, tying the strands into a bow per perfect uniform standard. “What do you think this is—another one of my father’s _dinner parties?_ ” She couldn’t get away with wearing combat gear to _every_ formal event. 

And, listen, she wasn’t even considering her battle skirt for the wedding—she was just tired of trying on dresses. This was number _three._ “This one’s fine. Can’t we go now?”

“C’mon, Sis,” patronized Yang, tying the straps of Blake’s halter, “lighten up! It’s been so long since the four of us were together last, you could at least _pretend_ to have fun.”

This would be a lot more fun if she didn’t have to keep the heels on while they found a matching outfit. Ruby rolled her eyes but didn’t comment; she turned back to look in the mounted mirror. All the dresses were nice enough, couldn’t they just pick one and leave? 

Evidently not, as Weiss had gone and retrieved another gown. “What about,” with a smile, she held up the garment, fashioning it for the others to see, “ _this_ one?”

Blake turned to gaze upon the gown; in contrast to the others she’d picked out—it was a stunning dusty silver. It had fluffy, tiered ruffles that went to the floor. “It’s beautiful,” she said naturally, her eyes lighting to match. “It’d be _perfect_ on you, Ruby!” 

“Something a little different,” Yang fashioned a smirk and a fingertip to her chin. “I like it.” Ruby, however, giving it a once over, wasn’t so quick to agree. Her gut instinct knew it _was_ beautiful, but it didn’t jive with her despite the fact. 

“It’s not me,” she said dismissively. 

Weiss scoffed dramatically. “What!” she exclaimed. “What do you mean, ‘it’s not you’!” An incredulous motion follows, as if more-so exemplifying the dress for her to observe. “You’re the _only_ person in the world with silver eyes!”

“It’s a wedding, Weiss,” she countered, “isn’t it a bit, y’know— _‘improper’_ ,” air quotes, “not to wear your aura color?”

“I never took you for such a traditionalist,” teased Blake. “I wasn’t planning on wearing purple.”

“And I’m wearing blue,” added Weiss. Sky blue, to be exact. “So what’s the big deal?”

Ugh. They never made it easy, did they? “Because,” maybe if she sounded confident, they wouldn’t question her, “I told Oscar I’d be wearing red.” She cleared her throat and straightened her spine to stand tall. A silence follows as three expressions warp to the same knowing look. 

“So _that’s_ what this is about,” Weiss clicked her tongue. 

“Well, in that case, don’t let us ruin your _perfect date._ " Blake gave a little giggle as Yang slung her robotic arm around her own companion’s shoulder. 

“I-It’s not—!” she stuttered for a proper response. “It’s not like that!” That wasn’t why he asked about her outfit! Though, realizing the fact, she was a little bit sad it wasn’t the case. Why did he ask what color she’d be wearing?

“Fine, fine,” Weiss cut in. If Ruby wanted red, she’d find the most opulent red dress that would certainly stun Oscar silent. An exaggerated tone: “Your wish is my command, my fearless leader.”

After a moment, she came back to with a fluffy mini-skirt gown; it ruffled at the bottom and adorned a transparent trail. Were its outer design not convincing enough, the inner-lining was what most caught Ruby’s eye. If one didn’t know better, they may have thought the wearer were the one getting married. 

A silken, holy cross-print tile pattern. “That one,” Ruby said adamantly. 

Yang tilted her head, surprised to hear her take any stance past apathy. “Why that one?” A question to which rose lips parted with intention of sharing the truth, though those same lips quickly sealed together once more. She gave a faux shrug, knowing it better not to share her reasoning. 

“Just ‘cause.”

* * *

“You can’t _really_ believe what my mom told you, right?”

What should’ve been a nice sit-down evening for tea was made tense by the uncomfortable confession of Ruby’s agenda. She’d come all the way from Haven to visit Blake and Yang in Menagerie—to see former’s home, meet her family, and get some warm weather in before her search got more strenuous in the Atlus snow. 

But the Rose knew her stay wasn’t to be all sunshine despite the tropical atmosphere. A tension lingered as, no matter how many times she told herself “it’s a _need-to-know_ basis”, she knew omitting the truth was just another method of lying. 

“Why would Raven lie to me about this, Yang?” she asked dully, deflecting a question with a question; perhaps Yang would sympathize if she played the helpless card. A pathetic tactic, one all younger siblings played at the most desperate times. Yang only scoffed. 

“Why wouldn’t she?” She’d spent her whole life hurting their family, why would she stop now? It’d be stranger if she didn’t. Clearly, “She just wanted to get on your head and haunt you one more time before she disappeared for good.” Ruby resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“I’m _just saying_ ,” she replied tepidly, “it really seemed like she was,” a pause, “ _telling the truth._ ” A weak and mild response, but she was walking on eggshells as it was. Yang rolled her eyes right back. All things considered, she meant it however, as her discussion with Raven far predated Qrow’s disappearance entirely, by years—but she knew Yang wanted _anything_ but to hear that. 

Her sister’s will to see the best in others could get dangerously close to gullibility at times. “Ruby,” said Yang gently, reaching out to place her metallic hand over her sister’s palm, “I know you miss him, but I think you maybe need to start considering the alternative.” A sour look showed on the younger girl’s face. 

“ _That’s not fair,_ ” Ruby muttered. 

Yang blinked in confusion. “What?”

Reluctance showed on Ruby’s visage, but she confessed her thoughts with reckless abandoned. “Ever since he disappeared, I’ve never _once_ told you that you should believe he’s alive,” even though she should, and while she was so it, also stop being a pessimistic jerk, “and you’re here telling me I need to give up hope.”

It was almost as though Ruby could see the nerve her words had struck. 

“I’m here telling you that you need to stop with unrealistic expectations and come back down to Earth,” Yang said sternly. “All of us are out here trying to make the world a better place once and for all, and you’re acting like you have no part in it!”

“I am trying to make the world a better place!” she replied stubbornly. “I’m trying to save an innocent man who’s gone missing!” 

Yang’s expression grew hardened; she’d had enough of this. “You need to wake up and realize he’s gone for good.” The vitriol in her voice was like snake venom. She needn’t clarify her true meaning, but she did anyway. “He’s dead, Ruby.”

The younger was quiet for a moment before her reply came or muted through gritted teeth. _“How dare you?”_

An incredulous huff. 

“How dare I? How—”

It didn’t matter how Ruby had come along to the truth. It didn’t matter that she was adrift in moral ambiguity herself. She may have felt guilty (and even that was slowly dissipating as seconds passed,) at the end of the day: “You’re _so mad_ at Raven, you’d rather stay stubborn and angry for the rest of your life before you’d even think about considering that our uncle might still be alive!”

In the literal blink of an eye, Yang’s gaze shifted to a fiery red. “And you’d rather believe my dead-beat mother than your own sister!” Something about the fact hurt deep in Ruby’s heart. “You’re not listening to m—!”

“No— _you’re_ not listening to _me_ , Yang!” Ruby shouted back. “I don’t care that you’ve given up on him! I know—I know in my _heart_ that he’s still alive, and I _won’t_ stop looking for him till I get answers!” Yang was taken aback by the younger girl’s rare outburst; she grit her teeth and looked to Ruby with an incredulous expression over her behavior. “I know he’s out there, and he needs me—he needs _us!_ And unlike you, I’m not going up until I find him!”

The sound of a sliding bamboo door cut in as Blake stood with a fearful expression on the other side. “Is everything alright?” she asked expressly, voice a bit shaken, “I heard shouting, and—“

Catching sight of her girlfriend’s eyes, her faunus ears drooped in an emotion between concern and fear. “ _Yang...”_ She then looked to Ruby, who seemed so frustrated, she could’ve started crying at any moment. 

The younger girl bit her lip. Brushing past the older faunus, she put a hand on her shoulder for a moment before walking into the house. Yang was left to stare down the evening sunset with eyes yet crimson.

Without sharing another word to her sibling, Ruby caught the next boat to Atlus later that night—where she’d ultimately fall unconscious in the streets of Mantle—only to wake up in the private office of Academy Headmistress, Weiss Schnee.

_See ya when I see ya, Sis._

* * *

"So, ya gonna _finally_ tell me what you've been up to recently," _y'know,_ "since you haven't been answering my calls an' all?" Even a playful nudge couldn't rid Ruby of the rising guilt that twisted in her chest. The same spiel, liable yet again. A deep exhale exits the younger sister's nostrils, she shakes her head.

It was later that day, the evening of the wedding rehearsal. Despite being the bride, it seemed like Nora was the most bothered by having to attend such an event, but Ren naturally insisted. Ruby hoped she'd be able to sit quiet in the corner, attention purposefully not set on her presence. This wasn't supposed to be about her, after all.

Unfortunately for her, she was sat left of he sister in the wedding congregation. _At least its an aisle seat,_ she tried to tell herself. It'd make for a fast getaway at a moment's notice. Idle discussion echoed at the alter ahead as the crowd sat in wait; she could hear Nora protesting to what may have been every little thing she'd been told. If Weiss cooling herself with a dainty carved-ivory hand fan wasn't any indication, the evening air was abnormally warm for this time of year.

Was she trying to avoid her sister more than anyone else? _Maybe._ Did she want to run to her and cry in her arms from how everything had become, just like she always had as a child? _Also maybe._ But she knew it had to be one or the other.

"There's... not much to tell," replied Ruby (half-lie, mostly-truth.)

"C'mon," Yang nudged her yet again, "there's gotta be something going on in your life?"

"What about you?" she countered, conveniently keeping the conversation away from herself. "How've things been with... _y'know?"_ The younger girl leaned forward a bit, motioning to the dark-haired faunus on Yang's right. The older sister shushed her silently, but Blake sat none-the-wiser as she gabbed on with Weiss.

"Well," _a huff,_ "maybe if you picked up your Scroll _more often,_ you'd know that," she dug in her pocket, keeping her eyes set up front so as to not draw attention to herself, "it's going pretty well."

She pulled out a stunning, golden ring with an onyx stone. Ruby's eyes lit with realization. _"Yang..."_ a gentle smile appeared on her face. Her heart welled, she felt like she could cry in joy. The older woman gave a wink in reply, tucking the item back in her pocket. It was like being lit high in the air while burning at her core. She imagined this might've been how a hot-air-balloon felt. Could hot-air-balloons feel guilt?

_She didn't even realize her own sister was planning on purposing to her girlfriend._

"So," Yang gently urged her once more, trying hard to keep animosity from her tone, "what about _you?"_ Motioning forward with a nod of her head, Yang gestured to the young man standing behind the wedding alter with a book in hand. He'd had his sleeves rolled, looking perhaps even more tepid and exhausted than the rest. "You gonna tell me about your _new boyfriend_ at all?"

Ruby looked up too, and as she did, the aforementioned seemed to take notice. He sent a gentle smile her way, as if to say _"hello"._ He looked so befitting behind the podium, as if he were born for the role of making others happy. Remembering the night before, his hand brushing her against her skin, her cheeks flushed in the shadow of her name. She returned the gaze with a shy wave before looking to her sister in the corner of her eye—her sister, who absolutely caught that _entire exchange._ __"It's... _not really like that,"_ she said, clearly disappointed—though more in herself than anyone else. Yang put a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

"But it _could_ be," she told her, "if you'd _let_ it."

A sigh. Ruby loved her sister, but she could never tell her that the bond she had with her significant other would always be something else entirely; relationships weren’t as picture perfect for everyone. Ruby shook her head and settled to say, "I don't think it's that simple."

"Why not?" Yang tried to coerce her. "You bought that dress because you thought _he'd_ like it, right?" 

After a moment, Ruby shook her head yet again. Yang gave a quizzical look, and in her moment of vulnerability, the younger gave in with reluctance. "I bought it, because," a pause, "because it reminded me of _Qrow._ " Predictably, Yang's expression warped with such an answer.

Listen... _she understood._

Really, _she did._ If there was anyone who could empathize about the situation surrounding their uncle, it was absolutely Yang. Give yourself an inch, take a mile. “He’d... think it’s beautiful,” she’d settle to say. “Though he wouldn’t have _appreciated_ the heads you’re gonna turn.”

Ruby bit her lips, holding back tears. She didn’t like how fondly Yang spoke in memoriam—nor her use of the past-tense. “He should be here with us,” she dared to say. What should’ve been a call of comfort struggled against a lingering resentment.

_“Ruby—“_

Hearing Yang's tone alone was enough to send Ruby into a fit of instant regret. "I don't want to do this right now, Yang." 

Yang's blonde brow knit together, instantly defensive. “Do what?" she asked with a narrowed gaze. To which Ruby gave a deep, deep exhale.

"I... don't have _time_ for a boyfriend,” the _lamest_ of _lame_ excuses, "and I don't want you getting on my case, too." Remembering their dispute a year prior, what might've been a grudge for anyone else reared its near-invisible head. 

Give yourself an inch, take a mile. _Take the damn mile._ “I’m just saying,” she bit her tongue, “maybe it’d be good—“

Truthfully, and she didn't mean this with any sense of impertinence, "I didn't come here to have you _lecture me._ " She came here to watch Nora bicker with Ren and Jaune in wedding preparation. 

Yang hissed, and her tone was enough to catch Blake's attention too. “I didn't say _anything.”_

Well, she did, but also, "You were _thinking_ it," Ruby muttered, crossing her arms.

Yang scoffed. "I was _thinking_ that it was nice to see you focusing on anything but our d _ead uncle_ ," she replied with a pointed glare, "but I guess I was just being hopeful." The younger turned to look her sister in the eye with the same expression, one that'd only appear in the subject at hand.

_"Qrow. Isn't. Dead."_

"Yes, _he is_ ,” Yang exclaimed, sharp but yet beneath her breath.

"No, _he's not,_ " Ruby retorted the same.

Alright. _Forget the damn mile._ "Yes, Ruby, _he is!"_ shouted Yang, her tone now rising higher and catching the surrounding crowd's attention. "But you can't seem to _accept_ that, 'cause it's always _two steps_ forward, _one step_ back with this!”

As she rose slightly to lurch over her sister, Blake put a concerned hand on the other girl's forearm. _"Yang,"_ she said in worry. 

Embarrassment flooded Ruby's entire being, Yang's adolescent temper flaring just as violently as when they were kids. The younger sister rolled her eyes and let escape a frustrated growl, she was so exhausted with having to be the mature one in these situations. "Didn't I _just_ say I didn't want to talk about this?" Ruby whined. She tugged on Yang's Atlasian arm, trying to bring her back to her seat. _"Can't we discuss this late—?"_

On the contrary, she yanked Ruby to stand _up._

"No, we _can't!"_ she cut her off, her optics turning a firey shade of crimson. "'Cause you won't be _around_ later, you won't answer _my calls_ later!" She shouted in her sister's face, letting out all the temperament she'd been holding in since their last real conversation. "You'll be out in the _desert,_ or in a _snowstorm_ , or at the _bottom of a lake_ —looking for a _dead man_ you won't find!" 

She skips a heartbeat, and the one thereafter hits differently.

“You’re _right_ I will,” she hissed, “and I'll keep looking till the _day I die._ ”

Her iron fist flexed. _"Ruby—!"_

And how befitting it was for all the color to drain from the older girl’s visage upon realizing her next notion in truth. Ruby met her volume. 

"He's the _only_ blood I have left, Yang!" 

Yang's reddened gaze turned wide and mauve in a blink. She, and everyone else, grew silent. The statement's true meaning was perhaps lost on _some_ , if not the conversation's meaning in _full_ —but it was a fact also already known by... at least _one_ outside party, if only here in memory. An accompanying awkward gaze panned the crowd from behind the podium, uncomfortable as if he’d just realized a terrible thought in truth. 

_"Ruby..."_ Yang exhaled. A teardrop from the _sky above_ fell onto her cheek. 

Mortified, embarrassed, disgraced for her outburst, or maybe more-so for being who she was, Ruby took a few steps back, knocking into her chair. She choked on her words as none could surface. In a flash as quick as the _lightning itself,_ she burst into a shame of petals, fleeing from the situation. The crowd wasn't left to look on for long, as the rain above began to fall heavier, everyone's attention drawn back to their gathering. The congregation quickly hustled to withdraw the set-up from the unpredictable weather.

A single, _fleeting_ step followed the opposite direction, however.


	5. What's Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar tries his best to cheer Ruby up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll ask that everyone wait until the end of the story to pass judgement on plot points and my given choices. Just enjoy this crazy ride.

Chapter 5: What's Left Behind

_Should he be here beside you?_

Ruby stood drenched under the tearful sky. Her sterling gaze reflected the image of her mother’s silver memorial. Certainly, when it rained, it poured. 

_You never did anything to hurt anyone, but neither did he, no matter how much he may have thought otherwise. He never raised a hand against me, he was always on the right side.  
_ _He loved me—and he loved you._

It was different when it came to Summer. The memories of her mother were only ever that—more like dreams or stories of a time long ago. The talks they’d never had, the days they never spent—but her time with Qrow, the man she’d shared _all_ those years of her life with? She missed him in a different way, _hurt_ in a different way. She just couldn’t set him _free._

The Rose fell to her knees. Good thing it was pouring, or she may not be able to convince herself that she wasn’t in _tears._

She was left behind, and she missed him, _so much._ Qrow Branwen, _whomever_ he may really be.

 _“Oz knew,”_ a gentle voice called from behind her beyond the clatter of raindrops. She needn’t turn to recognize the owner. “ _He always knew_.” 

He had been there the very day Ruby was _born._ He’d officiated their private, hillside wedding. He’d always withheld the truth of who she _really_ was, just like Qrow and _everyone else._ A long moment followed before she found the strength to reply. 

“Did _you?_ ” she asked. 

Oscar looked to the muddy ground at his feet, then back of her. Ruby heard the faintest shuffling, though she didn’t budge to look his way. After a moment, a gentle weight was sat covering her shoulders. He’d draped his coat to cover her. 

“I’d have told you if I _did._ ” Her fate—her family? “With all the _lies_ you’ve lived through,” from the very moment Ozma’s truths had been divulged in full—he’d supposed, “I want to be _one_ thing that’s truthful to you.” Ruby’s heart ached deep in the sentiment, if only for its _undeniable reality._

Oscar took a step to stand in front of her. He reached in his pocket, pulling out a familiar, patchwork rag folded in fourths. It was the scarf he’d owned when they’d first met. It was clean despite being clearly worn in age. He unfolded it, settling the cloth atop Ruby’s head to keep her dry in the rain.

She looked up to him, the recognition of his kindness making her heart well. “I don’t think Oz wanted to make this statue just to have you _crying_ in front of it,” Oscar gave an exhale, showing a weak smile. “Why don’t we get out of the rain?”

After a moment, Ruby shook her head. “I can’t go back to the academy right now.” Not to where everyone... where _Yang_ was. She wasn’t ready to finish a fight that she, herself started. 

“Then we’ll go somewhere else,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take, “‘till you feel like you can go back.”

Looking to his palm, she let herself remember the last time she’d taken his offered kindness. His hold was so amiable, so warm—it felt like she’d never be lost were he at her side. And right now, she was feeling pretty adrift. 

A slender hand reached out as she took his offered hand on her own. 

* * *

He flipped the breaker for the overhead lights, the charge echoing loud in the otherwise empty and massive stadium. He hadn’t told her where’d he’d decided to take her, but she caught on around thirty minutes into the lift ride. 

"I haven't been back here in years," she told him, the sound of her her footsteps dissipating high before they reached the translucent glass ceiling. Despite everything, it had hardly changed since the first time she'd fought here as a kid.

"General Ironwood's original intention for Amity may not have worked out exactly as he planned, but I think this alternative does the job well enough.”

The Staff of Creation alongside the other three Relics had long since disappeared from the face of Remnant after humanity's final judgement, but with innovations founded in the then newly-reformed Schnee Dust Company—the use of gravity dust was able to keep the Arena higher in the sky than before. For the sake of all continents, they’d relocated the stadium back to Beacon. Global communications were equal or better to what they’d been before the Fall, and for that she was thankful... (but also liable.) 

The duo strode to stand in the middle of the battlefield, Ruby hadn't bothered to remove Oscar's coat or the rag from her head. Even now, even considering everything they'd been through, she was reminded just how small she was when standing centerstage of the grand stadium. 

_"You know,"_ Oscar said suddenly, "I still think about him sometimes.” She looked over to see him gazing up towards clouded sky with closed lids. "Ironwood, I mean.” Ruby gave a soft exhale, almost endeared, though for what may not have been the better. His tone was nostalgic, almost fond. 

She gave a weak smile and a roll of her eyes. "Only you could miss someone like him," you know, _a man who shot and left you for dead._

"He was scared," he rationalized, though Ruby wasn't sure she could ever understand how he excused him so easily. "Everyone can act irrational when they're at the end of their rope." She had to wonder whom all he was really talking about, but she felt it better not to ask. 

"Still," perhaps it was just because she'd never be the better person like Oscar, but, "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him." After everything he'd done to Mantle, and more personably, her friends. 

Truth be told, "I'm not sure I really have either, but," while he didn't want to be dismissive, he ultimately shrugged, "at this point, it doesn't matter." There was no use holding onto grudges; they were the ones miles high in the air, not _six feet under._ "Just because he made mistakes doesn't mean he was all bad," as they'd long since come to realize, if only resentfully. “I want to remember him as the man who knelt to look me in the eye the first time we met.” 

It wasn't the fact itself that sent a warm smile spreading across Ruby's visage, but rather what it reminded her of. “You sound more like Ozpin every day." 

There was a point in is life here the idea would've been more of an insult or a cause for anxiety, but it left him feeling nothing short him warmhearted now. "I... still wonder if all the steps I've taken in these last few years would've been the same as his." Though it was truly in curiosity, and nothing more. 

He _knew_ when he was doing the right thing. 

As did _she._ “He'd be proud of you," Ruby told him, finally removing the drenched garment from her head before she wrung it out. The girl offered back his sentiment; a pensive Oscar paused to reach out and take the cloth, his hand lingering in her’s for a long moment. “You’ve done so much, and helped so many people.” He’d picked up the shards his past life had left fallen—though he held no obligation to do so. He’d gone so far as to save a world that’d turn its back on him just for the circumstances of his life, and still aimed to make it a better place. _“You’re remarkable, Oscar.”_

It wasn’t often these days that Oscar felt his permanent blush grow fonder; his cheeks to his ears flourished warm. It wasn’t _just_ because a pretty girl called him remarkable—it was because that pretty girl was so remarkable _herself._ With his palm still over hers, Ruby did his heated heart one better as she went on to add to the fact. 

_“I’m proud of you, too.”_  
  
She let go the young man left stunned in ardency—though she was none-the-wiser to her affect. She removed his coat and held it out to him, the notion drawing his attention back to Earth. He feigned composure in retrieving it. “Y’know,” her tone shifted almost playfully, “since we’re so in the mood for reminiscing today,” the girl went on to say, “you didn’t bring me here just to _talk,_ did you?” She hoped not, the commute was miserable. 

He gazed back, dull, not sure he understood her meaning. “Huh?” he replied. Her answer came out fast and near-inaudible beneath her breath. 

“Heads up.”

“...Wha—?”

Nerily throwing his arms up to shield himself at the last moment, Oscar dropped his coat and stumbled back. Ruby had pivoted in the blink of an eye, throwing her fist in his direction (she’d pushed off with correct footing, might he note.) A _bolt of lighting_ was less likely to catch him off guard; for a moment, he was dazed, “Forgot to activate your aura,” she winked at him.

He finally took her meaning, and after a moment, he cracked a smile with an agreeable tilt of his head. He shifted to match her posture, standing on the offensive. 

Truth be told, Oscar Pine could not think of anything he would have loved _more_ in the moment than getting punched in the face by Ruby Rose. 

The duo began slow, synced sidesteps as if to encircle one another. “Hope you haven’t gotten too _rusty_ behind that desk all day.” 

“Professor Goodwich has made absolute _certain_ I haven’t.” 

He launched himself at her with a force and confidence she could’ve mistaken for that his past life. One fast strike followed another, and another; she shielded and dodged, retaliating with the same vigor. The two collided back and forth with familiarly. 

Their movements grew automatic in nostalgia—before long (while the stadium’s terrain was flat and unchanging,) it felt like tangerine daybreak lined rolling mountains in the backdrop. The dirt at their feet, the cool evening air...

She didn’t realize, despite all that’d been at stake at that time, she _missed_ those days in Mistral. It was like she was looking back at that meek little boy she’d only just met. The longer they went on, the more she let herself get too lost in the memory despite their duel.

He was just overjoyed to see her _smiling_ again. 

A misplaced strike that would’ve landed on a smaller opponent, a smaller Oscar, instead left Ruby stumbling and wide open. An exasperated gasp followed her being heaved to the ground. The vice grip he’d taken on her wrist strengthened two-fold as her opponent pinned her to the floor. 

A rare smirk showed as he taunted her. “What were you saying about getting _rusty?”_

She struggled and flexed a bit beneath his hold, exhaling a groan as he didn’t let up. It sent chills down his spine, and that fluster told him he should probably let go—but the moment wasn’t easily gravitated from; she hadn’t conceded to her loss yet after all. 

“Shush or I’ll _turn you to stone,_ too,” she panted heavily, just the same as him—the situation allowing little chance to catch one’s _breath_. He wanted to note how her gift only effected _Grimm_ , but he wasn’t about to test his _luck._ After a second, Ruby finally gave in, relaxing, however yet to _steady_ her breath... 

But as long as he was on top of her, she quickly realized she wouldn’t be able. 

The two opponents stared into one-another’s eyes for a long moment. Their already battle-heated flesh grew warmer. She may have been eclipsed by his shadow, but she was as beautiful and radiant as the sun itself... yet it was times like this that she so reminded him of the _moon_ —as a part of her was always _hidden away._

The way her hair had fallen to expose her forehead, her long auburn lashes and iron gaze, the soft _pinkish hue_ of her lips against her pale skin...

 _“I,_ ” exhaled Oscar, at a loss. Finally remembering reality, he flung himself off the girl to sit beside her. Ruby remained flat on the floor even so. If the goal was to take her mind off things, this had certainly done the trick. _“S-Sorry!”_  
  
_For the love of the Brothers, he had absolutely nothing to apologize for._

With an inhale, he instantly rose to his feet, acting as if nothing had happened at all. He dusted himself off, clearing his throat—taking every single action of a person pretending like they weren’t head over heels for the person they’d just pinned to the floor. Ruby sat upright in a daze. 

He offered a her a hand.   
“Best two out of three?”

* * *

Two out of three, three out of five, four out of seven. You get the idea. 

They’d spent a few hours in the arena just the same. The eventide had faded to deep night, yet she still didn’t want to go back despite having run herself exhausted from their sparring. But he’d told her they’d stay out as long as she’d like, and he was going to make good on that. The rain had luckily let up to a clouded night-sky.

“This is where I come when I need time to myself,” he said. 

A smirk. “So, it’s where you go to _hide_ from Goodwich?”

A bashful hand rose to rub the back of his head— _guilty as charged._ He dug in his pocket for the key to the building they’d stood out of. It was a clear glass structure—however dark on the inside. From the moment he’d opened the door, she was overwhelmed by an array of differing but pleasant aromas; Oscar flipped the light switch to illuminate rows and rows of potted foliage in variety. A green house. 

“Did you plant all of these?” Ruby asked, almost in wonder. 

“Not _all_ of them,” he exhaled a laugh. There’d be _no way_ he’d have the time. “The agricultural classes did most of the work,” Oscar explained, “I just help out where I can.” 

“Amazing,” she smiled. She thought this might be a place... that _Taiyang_ would like. 

He let her idle and sight see for a moment, but as he had a feeling would be the case, it wasn’t long before Ruby’s attention had found a particular basin. In a pavlovian moment, the girl’s gaze lit brighter than they had perhaps all day.

_Strawberries._

It’d been so long since she’d last had strawberries—at least six months. With a gaze that could’ve _burnt holes_ through the plant (near literally,) Ruby resisted the urge not to rip the fruit from its vine. Oscar held back a chuckle unsuccessfully; he took the nearby spray bottle in hand. Spritzing the berries a couple times, he motioned for her to take one. 

_“Go on,”_ an _endeared_ voice. 

And were it anyone else, she’d have thrown her arms around and paraded them with her undying appreciation.

An excited gasp and an expression to match. She plucked a few particularly _delectable_ -looking haws—their sweet flavor refreshing on her tongue. She looked so overjoyed, it almost seemed she could’ve started _tearing up._

And truth be told, if you asked _him_ —she could not have been _more adorable._

“That one was my personal choice to plant, though,” he confessed. With a little leafy tuft peeking out from her lips, she looked to him from the corner of her eye. He winked at her, to which she swallowed hard, going so far as to eat the _stem._ Quite like a _dolt._

As she took another, her idle stride led her on, but with every step she felt a little more overwhelmed. It seemed like there was something interesting to be seen in every nook and cranny. After a moment or so, however, her gaze was drawn to a large bouquet of sunflowers. As if on cue—she felt her heart waver to stay high. 

Sullenly, she ate her last strawberry. 

Again, she peeked out the corner of her eye, Oscar had wandered a few lanes away, idly spraying a needy orchid here and there, a gentle expression showing on his face. He, on the contrary, seemed at-peace. 

“It... reminds me of home,” he said softly, “ _being here.”_

She thought she’d may have known the feeling. “Do you miss it?”

He was silent, almost pensively, before giving a single nod. “ _Yeah,_ ” he set down the spray bottle in exchange for a nearby watering can. “I miss my Aunt Emery,” he paused, “and my _parents_.”

She was caught off guard by the mention of the ladder. It was rare he offered up any information about his mother and father; he’d only ever told her that they’d died when he was very young. Ruby took a gazed towards the young headmaster as he attended to his flowers. Was it... _overstepping_ to wonder?

“What were they like?” she’d asked after a few moments. “Your mom and dad?” A question to which Oscar gave a momentary pause, though not in resentment. 

“I... don’t remember them much,” he said truthfully, giving a shrug. He wished he had more to tell, but he’d been so young at the time, he couldn’t recall what was truth and what he’d imagined. “I know that... my dad was a woodcutter,” he hummed. “He’d go out for work, then come back a few weeks later,” the way he spoke sounded more like the recycled memories of another; Oscar gazed down to the ceramic pot of lilies he’d watered, “until one day, when he _never_ came home.”

He needn’t explain why. 

“And your mother?” Ruby asked. 

He remembered her a bit better, though not quite what he’d call _“clearly”._ “She stayed home to take care of me,” a fond smile showed faintly beneath his tilted gaze, “she’d read me fairytales before bed, take me for walks in the forest during the day.” He could image her gentle visage looking down to him as he toddled at her side. She always wore the same _straw hat._

“After my dad died, we moved in with my Auntie Em.” And, of course, he got onto the inevitable. “A pack of Grimm attacked the farm one day,” his father was gone, so, “she died trying to protect me.”

He’d sounded so resolved and nonchalant in the fact, Ruby shared an empathetic gaze. _“I’m sorry,”_ she’d never really had the chance to say before now. Oscar set the watering can down on the table. 

To her surprise, the young man reached up, behind his head, untying the warps he’d always wore around his neck. He unraveled the bandaging to reveal a faint scar at the base of his throat, stretching from one end to another. It was slightly off-colored and showed sign of age. Ruby’s silver gaze went wide, an inaudible gasp passed parted lips. 

_“Trying”_ had been the key word in his sentiment. 

“I _miss them,”_ he confessed, “and _Oz,_ and _Ironwood,_ and,” an exhale flows from his lungs as he caught himself before he could take his lament too far, “and _everyone_ that’s gone.” Be it forever, or not. 

His gentle step took him to stand at her side, in front of the sunflower display. He showed the bouquet a loving gaze regardless. “But I’d like to think a little part of them lives on,” a carnation here, a zinnia there, or even a _strawberry,_ “even if it’s just in this greenhouse.” 

Both of them were holding onto a little part of the ones they’d loved and lost, in their own ways. “They do,” she reassured him. Ruby reached over slowly, cupping his palm in her own. She laced her fingers between his as she stood at his side. He returned the hold in a comfortable silence, only the hum of crickets resounding in the evening air. 

“It’s... _getting late,_ ” Ruby finally whispered. 

“Do you think you’re ready to go back now?” he asked—but Ruby only shook her head. 

“No,” she gave a weak smile. She’d sooner get a hotel or sleep outside than go back to a room with a rowdy Yang (and unfortunately she’d left her wallet back at said room, too,) “but you should.” The wedding was tomorrow, and as the officiant, he needed sleep more than she did. With her fingers still laced between his own, Oscar gave a long pause. By his own doing, his heart rate picked up yet again. 

“Why don’t you,” his grip grew tighter, “ _stay in my room_ tonight?” 

Ruby blinked absently, instantly wide-eyed with surprise. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, her face an instant flush. She snapped to look his way, but before she could make a fool of herself with any semblance of an answer, he gave his addendum: “You can have my bed,” he said softly. “I’ll sleep in my office.” 

_Oh,_ she though. _That’s what he meant._ “I,” she exhaled, trailing off in uncertainty. 

Preemptive, he cut in, “It’s... it’s fine if you don’t. _I-I just figured I’d—_ “

 _“I do,”_ she corrected him quickly with a little shake of her head. His nervous stutter was enough to convince her; there’s no way she could turn down his hospitality. He panned her way as she gave him a soft look behind _rosy_ cheeks. _“I want to.”_


	6. Digging Down Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby receives a much-needed reminder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I'm gonna say is one of the illustrations in this chapter was named ugh.png okay.
> 
> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments are always appreciated!

Chapter 6: Digging Down Deeper

Would you believe this the first instance that Ruby Rose (professional huntress, savior of Remnant, _champion of the unyielding and everlasting darkness_ ) was going to spend the night in a boy’s room? Assuming her fathers’ rooms didn’t count. 

Or Jaune’s. She didn’t count Jaune’s. 

“You can borrow a change of clothes, if you’d like,” a gentlemanly offer, and she’d expected nothing less, but just the idea was enough to send chills down her spine. It was a bit too hospitable for her. 

“I’ll be fine,” the Rose shook her head; she’d dried off enough after the rain anyway, “but thank you.” He gave a weak smile and a nod. 

The duo stood centerfold of the round, paisley-pattern rug in the middle of his floor, perhaps a foot or so apart. His room was much more humble than she would’ve thought Goodwich would allow. It was quaint in size with full bed and minimal furnishings, both being of neutral shade. The most notable feature was probably the bookshelves that lined the far wall, packed to the _brim_ with colorful spine in various sizes. Her attention was most drawn in by the earthy, _floral_ scent that permeated the air— _his scent._

“Well, try to have a good night,” he told her lamely, a moment’s silence passing. Ruby studied the look on his face; he seemed almost pensive, or perhaps like there was _more_ he wanted to say... but maybe she was _projecting._

“You, too,” she echoed naturally, maybe feeling a bit disappointed somewhere in the back of her mind. Regardless, the two turned their separate ways, Ruby to his bed and Oscar to the door...

He was the first to look back. 

“Actually, Ruby,” he said, and that was all it took for her to turn as well, “there’s... _something_ I wanted to give you.”

Something... he wanted to _give_ her—something _else?_ Despite the comfortable air conditioning, she felt a drop of sweat form on the side of her forehead. She wasn’t sure she could take many more of his surprises, the first had been so _extravagant._ “What is it?” she asked _reluctantly_ —though he seemed just as _reluctant_ to answer. 

After a moment of mustering the courage, the boy reached into his pocket, pulling out a palm-sized, velvet box. Her heart skipped a beat as he held it out to her. She certainly knew what it looked like, but she also knew her tendency to get ahead of herself. Curious, slender digits reached out to take it, she lifted the lid...

The crimson glean reflecting in her gaze was radiant, even in the low light. Inside was a _beautiful_ pair of carved _rose earrings._ Semi-translucent, they looked to be made from some kind of red gemstone—which she could only assume were _rubies._

Is... _this_ why he’d asked is she was wearing red to the wedding?

“I picked them up when Jaune and I were in town earlier.” They were from a little family-owned jewelry store he’d passed by every now and again. He’d seen them in the display window few times, and thought of her each instance. “I was waiting for the right time to give them to you, _but_ ,” a bashful hand rubbed the back of his head as he avoided eye contact, “it never really came up today.”

Humanity’s savior was all but stunned speechless. She hardly managed to choke out his name. _“Oscar...”_

 _I can’t accept this._  
Could she accept this?   
Well, maybe she could. 

Delicately, she took the studs from the little box. She unclasped the simple pair she’d been wearing to swap them out; after a moment of fiddling around, she looked back up to him with her brand new set of earrings glistening in the evening light. 

Timid, she tucked her side fringe behind her ears, as if to showcase the new her. “How do I look?” Thank the dim lamp or she may have noticed his flush grow ardent. He need only answer _honestly._

_“Beautiful.”_

Ruby’s breath hitched inaudibly, unsure if her senses were playing tricks on her mind—but he didn’t mumble much these days, and she was absolutely _certain_ she’d heard him right. 

“I hope you like them,” he followed up, showing her a small smile, certainly more satisfied with his parting now. But as the young man turned once again to leave, the feeling of a slender hand wrapped itself around his wrist. Surprised, he was automatic to stop in place. 

_“Why?”_

Oscar looked over his shoulder to Ruby, who only gazed to the floor with her head lowered. Her behavior was cause for concern, but needless to say, also confusion. “What do you mean?” Why did he hope she _liked them?_

The bed she was going to sleep in—the secrets he’d chosen to share, her mother’s statue. The very earrings she wore in her ears. A long moment passed before Ruby found the courage to clarify her meaning. 

“Why aren’t you angry with me, Oscar?”

The young man’s expression warped with concern as he turned back to look her way in full. “Why would I be?” he asked, to which she could only linger in guilt. “Because you’ve been out looking for Qrow?”

Her heart begged for the reason he’d gone so far and done so much for her—the girl who’d he’d hardly heard a word from not two days before. Yang’s reaction was a _harsh_ reality, but it was _appropriate_ —she understood why she’d acted the way she did. Honestly, Ruby was convinced she’d just said what everyone was thinking. She wanted to embrace Oscar’s words, his _gift,_ his kind gestures that seemed to pass in _abundance_. But, why did they even exist _at all?_

A pause followed before she was certain to say: “Because I’ve abandoned everything,” _everyone,_ “to find him.”

His brow knit together; there were a lot of things he could accept, but the twisting of her ideology wasn’t one of them. Why would she think something like that about herself? “You haven’t abandoned everything,” he told her in gentle assurance. Ruby was sure there were others, not the least of whom she was related to, that would disagree. And, _honestly?_

_“I have.”_

It was a statement that sounded more like a confession to something she’d been denying for a long time. A weak look showed. _“Ruby—“_

 _“No,”_ she shook her head adamantly. “I... I should be looking for the source of the Grimm Rivers with Yang and Blake! Or Weiss’s lieutenant in the Atlus army!” Or saving villages, or teaching the next generation, or doing absolutely anything with her huntsman license besides chasing illusions in the middle of nowhere! “Or— _or_ —!” 

_Or here, with you._

Ruby grit her teeth and held her breath. She bit back her honesty—but only so far: “But it’s _just_ like Yang said,” she cut herself off, “I’m out in the _middle of the desert_ , looking for a man I haven’t seen in _years.”_ Truly, the _feather_ didn’t fall far from the _rose;_ “Because I just _can’t let go.”_

Ruby released his wrist, his hand fell idly to his side once more; they stood in absence. In her mind, she _begged_ him to say something, but she also knew he had every right to walk off without another word. Luckily for her, the young headmaster somehow managed to hear the silent plea of _his unique Rose._

 _“You know,”_ said Oscar softly, “that’s one of the things I’ve always _admired_ about you.”

Needless to say, she was caught off guard. _“Huh?”_

“Ruby, _you are,_ ” he gave an exhale, unsure if he could ever quantify what he really wanted to express, “the most _indomitable_ person I’ve ever met.”

Her brow knit together, a look of confusion on her face. “I’m... _what?”_ she asked beneath her breath. He took a few steps from her side, putting a palm on the bed frame’s post to lean on it. In the pale light, he looked lost in thought—or as it would happen in truth, a memory. 

“Do you remember... all those years ago at Haven? That night at the dojo?”

The night he’d gone so far as to lash out at her in a misplaced anger, all for an ideology he couldn’t comprehend. It was a bit fuzzy in her mind but she’d certainly never forgotten. She remembered feeling _comfortable_ in front of the little boy she’d only just met, because she could already tell how extraordinary of a person he was—enough so to even _shed tears_ before him, and tell him _truths_ she’d kept from most. 

A longing, hazel gaze found itself at the open window, looking to he broken moon above. “That was the first time I really _knew_ you were someone I could count on—someone I could _always trust_ to do the right thing,” confessed Oscar, “I haven’t stopped believing in you even _once_ from that moment. And I _never_ will.”

When he was little, his mother had read him stories of chivalrous knights—heroes on white horses who’d _vanquish_ evil no matter what stood in their way. Maybe it was then that he realized he wanted to be more than a farmhand for the rest of his life. In meeting Ruby Rose, however, _all_ those gallant figures seemed to _pale_ in her vermillion shadow, the personification of wisdom, justice, and love. 

His unique Rose was the _real_ champion he’d always dreamed of being like. 

She heated with what she’d felt an undeserved flush. _Is that really me?_ Flattery made acquaintance to doubt. In the end, she knew she was simply at the _mercy_ of her own heart... and while Oscar would _agree_ , it was a rare and _admirable_ thing in his mind. 

“Ask anyone who’s met you, and I’m _sure_ they’d feel the same,” he added, but she wasn’t so certain. She’d go so far as to give up _everything_ to save the ones she loved... only to _hurt_ others in result. As if he could read her thoughts, he went on to add, “even _Yang_ ”. _Especially Yang._

He could only imagine the weight that came from being part of her l _ess-than nuclear_ family, and the strength it took in turn. Truly, what a _proud_ Rose she was, to stand so bold in the face of her fears. Ruby looked off to the side and bit back the rapidly-forming tears threatening to _fall._

“I don’t know if she would.”

Oscar reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear again, just as he did the day before. Perhaps it was partly in _selfish_ intent to see her face a bit better, but more-so to brush away the drops that’d gathered in her corner lashes. At this point, she was unsure if her cheeks were heated from _fluster_ or _depression._

“Without her, _my family...”_ she trailed off, she couldn’t finish the thought. 

“You’ll _always_ be family,” even if they weren’t half-sisters in blood. Certainly, more than she could ever be angry with Ruby, “She’s just worried about you—like we _all_ are.” A quick inhale came in response, the girl ready to indulge in the same thousand excuses and apologies as she always had before, but Oscar cut her off—putting his index finger to her lips. “But it’s not our decision. Not Yang’s, the rest of your team’s, or even _mine._ ” Ruby looked to him with an almost pleading expression. 

Well... if _he_ wasn’t going to say it: _“You’re my superior.”_

A statement to which he could only chuckle softly, his gaze soft as satin on her lamp-lit visage. Truly, the title was only technical; perhaps _“enabler”_ was the more accurate word in how he’d chosen to indulge his position. “Of course I want you by my side, but,” an exhale, “I’m, just... _not_ willing to give up your heart’s desire for the sake of it.” 

_Her heart’s desire..._

It came back to the same, simple question as before. The yet pleading look showed on her face, as she wanted _so much_ to understand. 

_“Why?”_

> “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you—the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under a glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed caterpillars (except the two of three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listen to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is _my_ rose.”
> 
> —Antoine de Saint Exupéry, _“The Little Prince”_.

“Because, after _everything_ we’ve been through,” once more his delicate touch brushed against her cheek, but this time he’d cupped his palm to her jaw with intent; his hand was cool against her skin, like a sedative, or perhaps more-so a cure, “ _aren’t we family, too?_ ”

The tears in the corners of her eyes made good on their _threat_ to fall. An exhale followed an inaudible gasp, as though she were trying to hold it back—but it was for naught as another gasp resounded. Though she needn't worry, as it was quickly taken care of; Oscar brushed away a droplet with his thumb. 

Without warning, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a _tight embrace._

Surprised as _ever_ by her spontaneous nature, he stumbled a bit, but he _contentedly_ caught her in his hold nonetheless. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, and _just_ when he thought he was on top of things, her step shuffled again, a touch _stronger_ and in a manner he couldn’t comprehend even if he’d predicted it. With reckless abandon, she _pushed_ into him to _fall back._

Oscar toppled over, falling to his bed comforter with Ruby resting atop him. 

He stared blankly up to the twilight-hue ceiling above, predictably dazed and confused—but there was no denying how _intentional_ her actions had been. Near-dumbfounded, he could only sputter her name, almost incredulous. “R-Ruby—?”

And he was abruptly silenced by the feeling lips pressed to the base of his neck—over his scar. 

Oscar’s breath hitched. Were he his _younger_ and more _insecure_ self, he wouldn’t have been able to resist letting his _fluster_ show. Instead, at the _mature and confident_ age of nineteen-years-old, he was instead left stunned and gaping like an idiot in silence. She really was _not_ doing his flush any favors today. 

Ruby Rose, the paragon of _benevolence, virtue,_ and all that was _beautiful_ in the world—had just kissed his neck. (While laying on top of him.)

 _“We’re,”_ she whispered, her voice brushing against his skin, _“family, too.”_

He’s stunned expression grew more gentle but no less heated. While his one arm remained wrapped around her torso, his other hand rose to linger on the back of her head; he ran his _fingertips_ down through her hair, as if to say, _“I’ll always support you”. No matter what._

“Oscar, _I,”_ Ruby choked out, nervous as he despite having brought the entire situation on herself, “ _I don’t want to be alone tonight.”_ And that was all she needed to say, because neither did he. 

“I won’t leave,” he reassured her. By his word, she nestled closer against him. Selfishly in his hold, she felt at home, unburdened, and where she truly wanted to be. 

_“Can I stay like this?”_ she asked. He didn’t miss a beat.  
If she wanted to: _“Forever.”_


	7. Eyes on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby was once told that nights like these were ones she’d never forget, and now more than ever, she truly believed as much. 

7: Eyes on You

While she was... admittedly _heavier_ than he’d imagined (not that he had, that’d be weird,) awakening was a much lonelier feeling than falling asleep with her resting innocently atop him. By the time he’d gotten up the next day, she was gone. 

Oscar looked towards his reflection in the ornate, wall-mounted mirror. He fiddled aimlessly with the greenish turtleneck's zipper at his throat in place of his wraps; despite everything, he’d never much felt like himself in a suit. A groan of _self-disappointment_ resounds as it couldn’t seem to sit right no matter how much he adjusted it.

“Would you like some assistance?” 

An unexpected voice called out from behind him; he shifted a bit to see Professor Goodwitch in the mirror, standing with crossed arms and a teasing smile. As was often the case, he hadn’t heard her come in. Oscar turned her way with a defeated “please”. She showed the boy a gentle look and took a few steps in his direction. Reaching out with a precise touch, she took the fabric in hand, smoothing it properly before zipping it up. “Have you memorized your speech?” she asked. 

While it wasn’t overwhelming, he’d planned on spending more time going over it yesterday evening before bed... but, clearly, he hadn’t the chance. “For the most part,” he confessed.

“I suppose you have been fairly _preoccupied_ the last few days,” Glynda hummed. “Did you and Miss Rose have a good night?” 

The hair on the back of Oscar’s neck stood on end, “W-What?” _How did she—?_

“She stopped in to give her field report, didn’t she?” Glynda replied casually. 

_Oh._ “Right,” she’d meant the night before last. He forced a smile and normalcy. “It was good to catch up,” a vague response, he’d hoped she wouldn’t read into it too much. Of course, the universe was _never_ one to give a Oscar Pine a break. 

“I heard she and Miss Xiao Long got in a spat at the rehearsal yesterday,” Glynda got on, “and I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t come back to your office, either.” Oscar swallowed hard, forever wondering where she’d acquired such a _keen_ third eye.

“I tried to help her feel better,” he admitted. 

She peeked up to the young man’s visage. “And, did you?” 

He gave an exhale through his nose, tilting his head back with closed lids. “I hope so.” A knowing look matches a consoling tone to follow (though one not acquainted with her may have easily missed it.) 

“While she’s grown _leaps_ and bounds in diligence, Miss Rose is still as human as the rest of us.” She was still quite like the reckless little girl she’d met all those years ago—though she never did respond well to a _slap on the wrist._ “Not even a battle-hardened huntress can shoulder the world alone all the time.” Oscar seemed almost _sullen_ in the thought of her happiness. 

“I,” a bashful look and a confession, “I would do _anything_ for her, Glynda.” 

“Perhaps you should tell her as much,” she replied simply. 

As she’d set his turtleneck properly, Glynda reached into her skirt pocket, and to his surprise, she pulled out an opulent, _cross-shaped_ broach. Delicate and precise, she pinned it to the lower-center of his collar. The young man showed a curious look, but she offered no explanation. 

“Were anyone so _allowed,_ ” she smoothed his lapel once more for good measure, her hand raising to gently lift his chin, “I should _certainly_ think it’d be you.” His meek expression warped sweeter.

“ _Thank you,_ Professor.”

He turned to observe himself in the mirror as the woman put her hands on his shoulders. “ _Back straight,_ ” she reminded him, to which he stood tall in response, almost reflexively (as it was clearly not the first time she’d told him.) “ _Head high._ ”

With proper posture as the _icing_ on the cake, he finally asked, “How do I look?” Glynda withheld a nostalgic gaze as she stood at the young in man’s side, looking to him in the mirror. Her answer resounded with something akin to _pride._

“Stunning.”

* * *

“You may now kiss to share in union.” 

As of it couldn’t ever gone any other way, Nora wrapped her hands around Ren’s waist. With the smirk to end all smirks, she dipped him dramatically. She may have been on a hiatus from lighting, but there was no absence of a spark as she kissed her newly-wed husband. 

A round of applause, the shedding of tears—the _whole_ nine yards. As the bride and groom stood _upright_ once more, Nora giggling jubilantly with cheeks as pink as her gown, she turned and threw the bouquet of cherry blossoms over her head. 

While some may have acted as though they _detested_ the flowers with distance (despite her very name,) a robotic arm reached high in the air with deliberation and on the contrary. She caught them easily, a few _hoots and hollers_ resounding in result. Yang looked to the stunning cat girl at her side, allowing only a moments bashfulness between the two before they showed their attention to the newly-weds walking down the aisle. 

* * *

Call it _déjà-vu,_ but standing in the Beacon reception hall for dinner and dance thereafter was an oddly familiar feeling. Things had been broken and rebuilt greater than before, yet it felt just the same... save for the lady stilts, which she’d kicked at the last minute. She rarely pulled the _“savior of the world card,”_ but when asked about her clashing, _steel-toed boots,_ she _knew_ what she was going to say. 

“Hey,” a voice called out gently at her side. She recognized it as the sibling who’d chosen to trade seats so as to _not_ sit by her. _Very_ maturely. “Can... I _join you?_ ”

“Sure,” Ruby muttered, nervously chugging her punch filled wine glass as though it were alcohol. She got herself another ladle easily, as she’d chosen the best spot by the refill bowl. _Careful what you say, Yang, or you might be walking away from this conversation as a strawberry blonde._

The elder sister adjusted to lean on the tables edge after her side. “Like what you did with your outfit,” she motioned to her boots. 

Ah, yes— _her favorite part_ , the kind of small talk Ruby could predict from a _mile_ away. “Thanks,” she said flatly. 

Then, to her surprise, Yang went on to add, “I’m sure _Qrow_ would think so too.” The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, but Yang played it cool. “Like they time he showed up half-naked and drunk to my Signal grad party.”

Ruby wished she’d been blessed with all the _reckless confidence_ of Yang, so daring as to bring up the center of their current altercation—but maybe that was from Tai’s side of the family. Well, she better live up to hers with a big ol’ sip of punch. “I’m his _illegitimate daughter,_ after all.”

The amused smile on Yang’s visage dissipated as she stood with crossed arms. To Ruby’s surprise, she didn’t seem angry, but pensive instead. "Ruby..." An exhale, one almost _tired_ and quite unlike the woman Ruby knew. "Can we... _talk?"_

Well, _no,_ was her gut reaction... but, perhaps—perhaps it'd only been because she was _intrigued_ by her company's strange change of pace, Ruby side-eye'd Yang in suspicion. She didn't lash out, or yell, or anything on the contrary (when, honestly, she was still trying to provoke her.)

An agitated exhale resounds as she brought her cup to her lips, an affirmative groan following to match as she knew she didn't _really_ have a say in the matter. Despite taking the path of most resistance, the younger girl would be glad she'd shown the decency enough to entertain.

 _"There's,"_ a quick exhale resounded before she really started in, the same thoughtful look showing on her face, "There's something I haven't told you. _About Qrow."_

* * *

There was something so _nostalgic_ about the evening air in early summer, late June. In the distance, she could still hear the slower, orchestral waltz from the reception hall—something equally as relaxing and nostalgic about the fact. 

She gone away to the little gazebo pavilion in the rose garden for a breath of fresh air and time on her own. She had... a _lot_ to think about, but despite the fact, she wore a smile, leaning on the deck rail and looking out to her mother’s monument across the way. 

_“Dress looks good.”_

[ ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/18f2a1181b7a39e372467bbb95aed663/tumblr_inline_qpw2uehVdA1udf377_500.png)

Ah. Such a simple, _uninspired_ compliment that took the _whole_ night to turn audible. Truly, he was the reincarnation of Remnant’s most _chivalrous_ men. Ruby looked back to see Oscar leaning against the pavilion’s wooden support. “Oh,” she gave a little laugh beneath her breath, as if to _distract_ from the timid blush forming across her visage, “thanks.” _Not bad yourself, Mister Officiant._ “The earrings match perfectly,” she told him. He’d have said they or _any_ would have looked perfect on her regardless—but perhaps he was bias. 

“I’m glad,” he tells her truthfully. 

Ruby turned in full to take a step his way. “I’m surprised you could find a chance to _sneak off,”_ she said after a moment. It seemed like _everyone_ wanted to know what Beacon’s newest headmaster had been up to. He huffed a laugh. After everything, he was more than a little worn out... but being social and being with her were two entirely different things, as the latter was always in desire. 

“Glynda’s covering for me.” Ruby rolled her eyes with a grin. He really was her _golden boy_ , huh? “And, what’s _your_ excuse?” he asked with a nod of his head and a playful look. “Not enjoying yourself?”

Ruby gave a weak giggle, rubbing the back of her neck guiltily. With all that’d been on her mind, she honestly just wanted time to herself... but she quickly came up with an excuse _equally_ as true. “I’m not really a _dancy pants-y_ kinda girl.”

Oscar cupped a hand to his chin, pondering the notion with a pensive hum. After a moment, as if coming to an _epiphany,_ he stood upright and tall, taking a few steps her way. Holding a princely hand out to her, he asked, _“Would you like to dance?”_

She looked to his offered palm with a little laugh at how regal he’d played it up. “You do realize I came here to get _away_ from the party?” she teased. 

“I’m not the party,” he said, so matter-of-fact. “I’m just the officiant.”

 _Well,_ he made a good argument; she supposed it couldn’t get much more _boring_ than that. A lopsided smile and a faux sigh. Alright, he’d convinced her: “Who am I to say no to my headmaster?” His was just about the _only_ hand she’d take. Gratitude showed clear in his gaze. 

Ruby’s heavier, _metal_ step met half-way with his, she took his hand at the center of the gazebo. It seemed rare he didn’t wear his gloves, but she supposed today would be an _exception,_ were there ever one. “But I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a dancing kind of girl.” She’d never properly learned, even for the _Vytal Ball._

“That’s alright,” he said. If she had to guess, the depth of her apprehension must’ve been _apparent_ —as Oscar was _keen_ to take her hold in his, placing her left hand in the proper spot on his shoulder. After _everything_ she’d done for him, it was the least he could teach her. His palm lingered to rest on her hip; he urged her a step closer, and while she was shy, she was agreeable. _Thanks for the dance lessons, Glynda._ “Just keep your eyes on me.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice. 

On cue with the slow tempo of the music, the young headmaster took a step back, Ruby’s footing following in reluctance. She’s felt so out of her element, but Oscar would have told her to give herself more credit. He went on like normal to help steady her. “I saw you at the punch bowl with Yang,” not a single strike of lighting to be seen this time around. “Did you talk things out?”

Ruby felt the hair stand higher on the back of her neck. _“I,”_ hypocritically, selfishly, didn’t want to ruin the moment with talk of their discussion, and so she nodded, vague, “yeah.” She peeked off to the side with a sly change of subject, “We apologized to Ren and Nora too,” a nervous laugh. 

He echoed the chuckle in good humor. “I don’t think they held it against you,” if anything, “Nora probably appreciated the excitement.” Ruby giggled more sincerely at the fact, knowing he was probably right. She gazed back to him with a gentle look. 

He wore his most _darling_ smile. 

“It’s... _strange,”_ said the girl after a moment. “After everything that’s happened in my life,” everything she’d endured, all the lies she’d lived though, all the danger, melodrama, and everything else: “I was _still_ able to watch two of my best friends get married tonight.” Was it pessimistic to say that she’d _never_ imagined this was a possibility? 

More than she may have realized, “I know the feeling,” he huffed a laugh. “It’s not every day we’re able to come together like this. Time has a way of testing our bonds, but it’s occasions like these that can keep them _stronger than ever.”_

A strange feeling _twisted i_ n the pit of her stomach, but it wasn’t exactly that of distress. It was like a _weird_ sense of déjà-vu, but distinctly not as well. Regardless, she knew he was right. “Suppose it’s good that I can’t spend my _whole_ life on the battlefield.” Even if she may have _wanted to._

Wait, _there it was again._

“You know, when you _think_ about it, fighting and dancing aren’t so _different._ Two partners, interlocked,” a mildly amused chuckle resounded from his vocal chords, but a strange look warped onto Ruby’s face for some reason, “but one wrong move in the ballroom can—“

_“Can lead to a swollen foot.”_

Oscar looked a bit stunned as she’d taken the exact words out of her mouth. “I... _yeah,”_ he said with a hint of surprise. A cute giggle resounds; he couldn’t help but feel a bit confused how she’d know what he was going to say—but he also supposed it wouldn’t be the first time they’d _finished each other’s sentences._

Ruby was once told that nights like these were ones she’d _never forget,_ and _now_ more than ever, she _truly_ believed as much. 

He was caught by surprise as she took a step closer; he’d have almost thought it was misplaced choreography until she was _bold and benevolent_ in resting her head against his shoulder. His flush flared as it was rare to, but quite like the night before, he let her do as she _willed_ —embracing her to match. Their closed position became even more _true_ to its name. Despite everything, or perhaps considering it, she felt... _a little sentimental._

Maybe more than a little. 

“Hey, _Oscar?_ ” Ruby said softly, an innocent kind of curiosity in her tone. “Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?”

He needn’t ponder for longer than a second, as he hadn’t forgotten. “I said, _‘you have silver eyes’_.” 

A truth she’d never told him: “The night I met Professor Ozpin, he said the exact same thing.” But it seemed so _different_ coming from him. _“Did he tell you that?”_

An enlightened _“huh”_ escapes his lips. “No,” he replied, “I didn’t realize,” as was _often_ the case at the start of his journey. Ozpin had hardly mentioned Ruby to him before they’d met, “Honestly, I... didn’t know _anything_ about the silver-eyed warriors before then, besides what I'd heard in fairytales,” a bashful confession. In truth, the reason he’s been so _astounded_ was much more personal than anything Ozpin could’ve _ever_ told him. 

It was because her eyes were like _starlight_ , a _steel saber_ , stunning as the _moon itself_ but made _whole_ by whom they were _part of._ Because, even _despite_ her lineage, there could _never_ be another gaze like hers until the _end of time._

Simply, “I just thought you were beautiful.”

A statement to which Ruby’s breath _hitched inaudibly,_ her heart skipping a beat, or maybe _two._ For some reason, it was a shock to realize he’d not started feeling that way only when she’d put his earrings in the day prior.

Those words, the _first_ words she’d ever heard from his lips... were his, and _his_ alone. 

She stopped in place and their passive sway came to a halt gradually. Her arms draped light around his neck shifted a bit to hold him _tighter_ , be it in nervousness, or perhaps it was simply because she wanted to be _closer_. Oscar must’ve been _nervous_ too, because his hold grew a touch more taut to match hers. At this point, their “dance” was less a waltz, and more simply an _embrace._ She wished it would _neve_ r have to end; she could turn monsters of darkness to _stone,_ why could she do the same with time and make the moment stay _forever?_

She used to wonder when she’d started to feel like _“this.”_ That night in the dojo? Or when he’d gone missing? All the times he looked fear in the eye and stood brave despite his reservations?

 _No,_ she realized suddenly. It was _none_ of those times. 

_“Oscar?”_ she whispered his name. 

“What is it?” he answered, tone so delicate she felt like she could’ve shared anything with him in that moment. Her _deepest_ thoughts, her _ugliest_ tears...

_Or her entire, sterling heart._

_“You,”_ her voice wasn’t more than a breathy whisper as it trailed off. A long paused passed before she found the confidence to pull back from his shoulder. He ducked his neck slightly, _curious_ to read the _look_ on her face. Their foreheads brushed, less than an _inch_ apart; gold met silver as she gazed deep in his eyes, just like he’d told her to. She _never_ wanted to look away, she let herself pretend she’d _never_ have to. Ruby worked up _all_ the courage she’d learned in his example. Truly, fear was _nothing_ when she was by his side. 

“You’ve... _gotten taller.”_

She stood on the tips of her steel-toed boots, her arms pulling him down to meet her halfway. Despite being the catalyst, she was just as _surprised_ when the space between them dissipated. Whatever breath he didn’t have from the start was _lost_ as he realized the situation. 

Her lips met his, delicate as the _petals of her namesake._

Oscar was stunned in disbelief. A moment he’d only ever allowed himself to indulge in per his most _personal_ dreams was made true, and miraculously, not by his own doing. Was this.. _. actually happening?_ Was this _real?_

Ruby Rose, his Rose—his a _rchangelic,_ _one-of-a-kind, incomparable_ Rose...

Oscar melted into her embrace, his long lashes drifting closed the same as hers. He reciprocated his guardian’s kiss as _tenderly_ as she, and Ruby could’ve sworn her heart sprouted wings and flew to Heaven. It was a gesture so _ethereal and sincere_ , but only made so as it was _requited._

The lingering desire to stay was almost impossible to resist, but she dared part from him as their lashes fluttered, thin gazes meeting without any words to match. The only confirmation it happened at all was the little smudge of cherry pigment on his lips and an unspoken agreement. 

_Once wasn’t enough._

Spontaneous, she hastily stood once more on her tiptoes; he was as cursory to duck down to meet her lips in a mutual moment this time. He reacted in the only way he could fathom, his hold hauling her thin frame closer to his while her slender fingertips entangled in the back of his hair. Another kiss, one more _passionate_ as _fleeing inhibition_ in order to catch up with all the desire they’d both withheld in _every moment_ before now. 

This part of her that was so vulnerable was also one she’d chosen to share with him, and only him—and he’d never dream of breaking that trust, or worse. _I’ll always be there for you, I’ll do anything for you._ With her chest pressed or his, it’s almost as though they could feel their frantic hearts beating in time to one another’s: _don’t end, don’t end, please, don’t end._

But as they both knew and feared, like the _night itself_ —it had to. 

Suddenly, his hold began to grow gentle, though not at all by choice. Crimson drifted through his fingertips, her semblance as soft as velvet and unlike the red spiral he’d always known. Without a word, she faded away, silken as the breeze itself. 

With only the _rose petals at his feet,_ Oscar’s heart grew suddenly emptier than it’d ever felt before (which was saying quite a lot.) The young man looked over his shoulder, into the dull distance of the garden, taking a step to put his hands in the rail. The only gaze staring back was the illuminated statue of _Summer Rose._

From somewhere in the distance on the opposite end, Ruby looked to his lone figure in the pavilion. She brushed away the _silver droplets_ in the corners of her lashes, and smiled despite _every little thing._ As she’d promised, even still, she didn’t look away. 

Now, without a _doubt_ in her mind, Ruby Rose could _confidently_ affirm she’d been in love with Oscar Pine from the very moment he’d said, _“you have silver eyes”._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you've made it to the end of the first act of this story! Did you enjoy the ride?
> 
> As I mentioned in the notes on the first chapter, this is as much as I've had written and will be posting at this time. The good news is that I'm very into RG still and have already begun writing the second half. I hope you'll stay around, as I'm hoping to have it done by June. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who's stuck around (even during my mini hiatus,) and I'd like to extend a special gratitude to those who've commented or given me kudos. The general support and reception I've gotten from this story was way better than I anticipated. I'll still be checking my messages regularly, so if you'd like to give me any feedback yet, I'm anxious and grateful to hear it.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading, I'll see you in the near future!


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